says the little British lady. When you make reservations to stay in a cloud forest and the directions to get there include, "a 2k hike up a mountain. You can pay $10 for a mule to carry your luggage, or you can carry it yourself," some people would say no thanks. When the day before you are supposed to go to said forest, you get an email that says "mudslides have destroyed a lot of the roads. You now have to walk an extra 4-5k with your belongings and probably cross a river," again, a lot of people would probably opt out. Not us. So we wake up to catch the 4am bus out of Pimampiro (after going to bed around 2am). Who knew buses ran that early? We made it to Quito in record time, hopped another bus to a small town, found a car who found our truck, who found the British lady in the Santa Lucia Office. "The roads are still bad," she says, "so we will have the truck take you as far as it can, but then you`re on your own. The signs may or may not be there, just go left at the first fork, right at the rest, except for the last one, take a left there. Now when you get to the river, just take your wellies (golashes), socks, and trousers off and wade accross." Ok. Sounds good. We can do this. We repack our backpacks so we don`t have to bring as much stuff, and head on our way. (Jana and I decided to share a pack, so we wouldn`t have to have three and we could take turns carrying it. This may have been a good plan, but the pack we took belongs to Paul, so it`s made for boys and super awkward to carry. Also, we didn`t pack it right so not only was it heavy, about 35 pounds, but it was top heavy and throwing us off balance every chance it got). All was well, a slight uphill walk, but nothing too bad. Everytime we got to a stream, we hoped it was the river. It wasn`t. We knew the river when we got to it. Not too wide, not too deep, but the water was moving a lot faster than I had inticipated. We deboot, desock, keep our trousers on, and creep across the rushing water. I for sure would have fallem if it weren`t for Katie and Jana. I would have barely made it without the pack exagerating my every shift in weight. My feet just aren`t made for rocks. But we all made it. No falls, thank goodness. You should have seen us trying to put our socks and boots back on. Quite the sight I`m sure. Those backpacks are heavy I tell you! The whole hike took us about three hours. The last 2k was straight uphill and terrible. I somehow got a crazy energy burst and was flying up for the last 30-45 minutes (did that cliff bar kick in? katie asked). Not sure, I was in the zone and it felt great. What an amazing feeling to finally get to the lodge, drop the pack, and sit down with a cold drink. bliss. The experience in the cloud forest, or bosque nublado, was amazing. There is very little electricity. I only ever saw two very dim lights in the dining area. Our cabin had no electricity at all. There is no refridgerator either which is crazy, espeicially when it takes so long to get up there. Talk about getting creative with the menu. We were fed three delicious meals a day courtesy of Marco the chef, and went on one hike every morning. We saw some waterfalls, looked at some nature, went on a giant swing, and saw where they make sugar cane. They make sugar cane with no electricity mind you! They have a horse or mule walk in circles to turn the gears that crush the sugar cane (paña), to get the honey (miel) out of it. Long process. So green. In the afternoons we lounged on the porch in hammocks and read while the rain poured down around us. Beautiful. I would like to go back to volunteer at this lodge someday. It is all men that work up there full time, and do all of the work including the cooking and cleaning. This is odd for the Ecuadorian culture. Usually there is a woman involved somewhere in the picture. At one point I felt like I was in the movie twilight living with the wolfpack. No more explination necessary. The last night we were there we stayed up late with Marco and a guide (the only two workers left on the mountain), drank aguardiente (firewater, tastes like moonshine), and listened to Marco play the guitar and sing. Perfect. Until the next morning when we had to wake up, make the descending hike, and catch a 10 hour bus to Cuenca.
The trip here to Lima was quite the adventure, one I would not like to repeat nor fully disclose the details of. So I will paraphrase. We left Cuenca at noon. The first bus we rode broke down, so that added about an hour and a half to the journey, which wouldn´t have been a big deal except that it was dark. Crossed the border. Got the very last bus out of Tumbes (the border town on the Peru side) thank goodness, took three more connecting buses, most of which involved running and slinging of luggage, and finally arrived here in Lima last night. 32 hours from Cuenca to Lima. Ouch. Very little food. We got here and ate some nasty, greasy chicken and french fries, salad, and a piece of cake. Shower, bed. Crashed is more like it. We finally met Larry today. After talking and corresponding since January, we have met face to face. He does exist. They do exist.
I wish I could write on the bus. There is so much idle time to think and do nothing, I come up with some pretty good ideas and good stories. But it´s all in my head. Writing is too difficult due to the bumpy bumpy, and it´s not good to be seen with a computer in public places, so that´s out of the question. Not that my $100 comupter from the Wal-Mart parking lot would hold a charge anyway. So I write myself little notes and hope I remember what I was thinking. Right now I am looking at a note that says "maintaining the balance between ingorance/youth and wisdom/maturity." I feel lucky to have experienced so much at a "young" age. A lot of this journey has been about survival. This trip to Lima for instance. Mentally you have to handle sitting still on a bus for hours on end, with the person infront of you crushing your legs while you try to sleep. You are clinging to your belongings, trying not to look at your watch because you know you will be disappointed at how much time hasn´t passed. You hope the bus doesn´t break down, or that it isn´t robbed. You pray there will another connecting bus waiting for you when you get to your destination, or at least one leaving sometime soon. If not, you at least pray for a safe place to sit and wait. Through all of this, you remain calm and positive, not always an easy task. Survival is also about living without, and coming out ok. You begin to truely understand what you need to survive and to be happy. Some of my happiest moments and memories were due to such simple pleasures. Sitting in a candle lit room listening to Marco play the guitar and sing native songs. There was no electricity. No lights, no ipod to shuffle, no phones (ok, so actually the other guy busted out and ipod and some battery powered speakers later, but that´s not the point). The five of us were living, experiencing life together like it has been experienced for centuries. Paragachi, also for example. They have lived their whole lives with next to nothing. Usually in a one room house with their whole families. But they are happy and it radiates. So what do you need to survive? To be surrounded by good people. They could be stragners, and I have found that often times they are, but human connectedness and unity is a very powerful thing. So I continue my journey, here in Lima, and wait to connect with the world.
says the little British lady. When you make reservations to stay in a cloud forest and the directions to get there include, "a 2k hike up a mountain. You can pay $10 for a mule to carry your luggage, or you can carry it yourself," some people would say no thanks. When the day before you are supposed to go to said forest, you get an email that says "mudslides have destroyed a lot of the roads. You now have to walk an extra 4-5k with your belongings and probably cross a river," again, a lot of people would probably opt out. Not us. So we wake up to catch the 4am bus out of Pimampiro (after going to bed around 2am). Who knew buses ran that early? We made it to Quito in record time, hopped another bus to a small town, found a car who found our truck, who found the British lady in the Santa Lucia Office. "The roads are still bad," she says, "so we will have the truck take you as far as it can, but then you`re on your own. The signs may or may not be there, just go left at the first fork, right at the rest, except for the last one, take a left there. Now when you get to the river, just take your wellies (golashes), socks, and trousers off and wade accross." Ok. Sounds good. We can do this. We repack our backpacks so we don`t have to bring as much stuff, and head on our way. (Jana and I decided to share a pack, so we wouldn`t have to have three and we could take turns carrying it. This may have been a good plan, but the pack we took belongs to Paul, so it`s made for boys and super awkward to carry. Also, we didn`t pack it right so not only was it heavy, about 35 pounds, but it was top heavy and throwing us off balance every chance it got). All was well, a slight uphill walk, but nothing too bad. Everytime we got to a stream, we hoped it was the river. It wasn`t. We knew the river when we got to it. Not too wide, not too deep, but the water was moving a lot faster than I had inticipated. We deboot, desock, keep our trousers on, and creep across the rushing water. I for sure would have fallem if it weren`t for Katie and Jana. I would have barely made it without the pack exagerating my every shift in weight. My feet just aren`t made for rocks. But we all made it. No falls, thank goodness. You should have seen us trying to put our socks and boots back on. Quite the sight I`m sure. Those backpacks are heavy I tell you! The whole hike took us about three hours. The last 2k was straight uphill and terrible. I somehow got a crazy energy burst and was flying up for the last 30-45 minutes (did that cliff bar kick in? katie asked). Not sure, I was in the zone and it felt great. What an amazing feeling to finally get to the lodge, drop the pack, and sit down with a cold drink. bliss. The experience in the cloud forest, or bosque nublado, was amazing. There is very little electricity. I only ever saw two very dim lights in the dining area. Our cabin had no electricity at all. There is no refridgerator either which is crazy, espeicially when it takes so long to get up there. Talk about getting creative with the menu. We were fed three delicious meals a day courtesy of Marco the chef, and went on one hike every morning. We saw some waterfalls, looked at some nature, went on a giant swing, and saw where they make sugar cane. They make sugar cane with no electricity mind you! They have a horse or mule walk in circles to turn the gears that crush the sugar cane (paña), to get the honey (miel) out of it. Long process. So green. In the afternoons we lounged on the porch in hammocks and read while the rain poured down around us. Beautiful. I would like to go back to volunteer at this lodge someday. It is all men that work up there full time, and do all of the work including the cooking and cleaning. This is odd for the Ecuadorian culture. Usually there is a woman involved somewhere in the picture. At one point I felt like I was in the movie twilight living with the wolfpack. No more explination necessary. The last night we were there we stayed up late with Marco and a guide (the only two workers left on the mountain), drank aguardiente (firewater, tastes like moonshine), and listened to Marco play the guitar and sing. Perfect. Until the next morning when we had to wake up, make the descending hike, and catch a 10 hour bus to Cuenca.
The trip here to Lima was quite the adventure, one I would not like to repeat nor fully disclose the details of. So I will paraphrase. We left Cuenca at noon. The first bus we rode broke down, so that added about an hour and a half to the journey, which wouldn´t have been a big deal except that it was dark. Crossed the border. Got the very last bus out of Tumbes (the border town on the Peru side) thank goodness, took three more connecting buses, most of which involved running and slinging of luggage, and finally arrived here in Lima last night. 32 hours from Cuenca to Lima. Ouch. Very little food. We got here and ate some nasty, greasy chicken and french fries, salad, and a piece of cake. Shower, bed. Crashed is more like it. We finally met Larry today. After talking and corresponding since January, we have met face to face. He does exist. They do exist. 
I wish I could write on the bus. There is so much idle time to think and do nothing, I come up with some pretty good ideas and good stories. But it´s all in my head. Writing is too difficult due to the bumpy bumpy, and it´s not good to be seen with a computer in public places, so that´s out of the question. Not that my $100 comupter from the Wal-Mart parking lot would hold a charge anyway. So I write myself little notes and hope I remember what I was thinking. Right now I am looking at a note that says "maintaining the balance between ingorance/youth and wisdom/maturity." I feel lucky to have experienced so much at a "young" age. A lot of this journey has been about survival. This trip to Lima for instance. Mentally you have to handle sitting still on a bus for hours on end, with the person infront of you crushing your legs while you try to sleep. You are clinging to your belongings, trying not to look at your watch because you know you will be disappointed at how much time hasn´t passed. You hope the bus doesn´t break down, or that it isn´t robbed. You pray there will another connecting bus waiting for you when you get to your destination, or at least one leaving sometime soon. If not, you at least pray for a safe place to sit and wait. Through all of this, you remain calm and positive, not always an easy task. Survival is also about living without, and coming out ok. You begin to truely understand what you need to survive and to be happy. Some of my happiest moments and memories were due to such simple pleasures. Sitting in a candle lit room listening to Marco play the guitar and sing native songs. There was no electricity. No lights, no ipod to shuffle, no phones (ok, so actually the other guy busted out and ipod and some battery powered speakers later, but that´s not the point). The five of us were living, experiencing life together like it has been experienced for centuries. Paragachi, also for example. They have lived their whole lives with next to nothing. Usually in a one room house with their whole families. But they are happy and it radiates. So what do you need to survive? To be surrounded by good people. They could be stragners, and I have found that often times they are, but human connectedness and unity is a very powerful thing. So I continue my journey, here in Lima, and wait to connect with the world.
You have connected with yourself...this is the big enchilada...the rest just follows naturally...
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