Te Odio Mr. T!

"I hate you Mr. T! I will NOT be at the next meeting of Nature Club!"

These were the words of one of my students during the first ever meeting of Nature Club. Encouraging stuff...

Recently, a fellow volunteer finished her time here in Latacunga and has returned to the United States. I was lucky enough to work with Liz for a year. She taught me so much about being a volunteer and what it meant to be dedicated to one's school and community. Last year we created an English Club and have had a small dedicated group of boys that show up week after week.

In the absence of Liz, a Gringa with considerable draw for the boys, I decided to modify the club. We live in such a beautiful place and yet the students have rarely left their small community. I wanted to change that. I suggested to the students that we should start a Nature Club where we would explore the province of Cotopaxi. Once a month we will go on mini-excursions to beautiful places near Latacunga. The first scheduled place was Putzalahua. Don't worry Liz, we are continuing our weekly English meetings.

Before we left. Putzalahua in the background.

Putzalahua is a small mountain sitting at 11,558 feet just outside of Latacunga. When I mentioned we should hike it the students all were very excited. We planned the date and what each student would bring. The students were in mass until 11:00 am and I really hoped they would not flake on me. I was happy to see them show up to the specified meeting point. We hoped that the late start would not result in us getting rained on in the common afternoon showers. We hopped a bus and got on our way.

These kids, same as most Ecuadorians, are not accustomed to walking any considerable distances and this became apparent within the first 30 feet of the hike. Complaints flew throughout the 3 hour hike to the top. About an half way up a light rain started. The kids had no rain gear. I tried to motivate the kids to move faster so we could get to the top where there is a small refuge.

When we did finally get to the top the students were soaked through. Half of them collapsed on the floor and said little. I unpacked the food I had brought and the kids chugged coca-cola trying to rehydrate. Of the 3 liters of water that I brought for the group only one was finished... by me.

Once the kids ate and dried out a bit they began to enjoy themselves. They took in the views of Latacunga from a vantage point they had never seen before. The rain let up and thus afforded us a chance to walk around the top and digest our large lunch of fried pork and hominy.

Raining on Latacunga

We took pictures then packed up and got ready to go back down. On the way down I chose a different path that is steeper and would take less time. This turned out to be a mistake. In true Peace Corps luck, the rain started again just as we left the refuge. The trail essentially became a muddy, steep slip 'n slide. I was in the front and the kids would basically form a train and push and slide their way down. This led to me falling forward several times. I would tell the kids to space out and go down solo but nevertheless the "train" would form again resulting in all of us ending up in the mud.

I was pretty miserable for about an hour of the descent. Despite my rain gear, every article of clothing was soaked through and I was covered in mud. The trail had become a muddy stream and we were spending more time on our rear ends then we were upright. Things began looking up near the midpoint though. Yes, the kids were just as dirty and wet as I was but they were having the time of their lives. Every time someone fell the group would erupt in laughter and sometimes slip themselves. My mood lightened as I watched the kids enjoy such a crappy situation.

The face of the kid on the right says it all..

When we finally arrived at the bottom we huddled under an awning. We were cold, muddy, and wet. A small boy passing by said the bus should come anytime to take us on the 30 minute trip back to Latacunga. We waited and waited and waited. After an hour I asked another person and we were informed that the bus doesn't run on Sundays...

We were able to convince a passing truck to allow us to ride in the pickup bed to Latacunga. The rain never let up and we all huddled together soaking wet and cold. This is when one of the students told me, "Te odio Mr. T. Y no te voy a acompañar en la próxima reunión del Nature Club!" Basically he said he hated me and he would not be at the next meeting of the Nature Club. This is why I joined the Peace Corps! We made it back to Latacugna, opened the tailgate and essentially poured out of the back of the truck and onto the street.

Top!

Despite the ups and downs on the first meeting of Nature Club the kids are excited for our next adventure. This time we are scaling it back a bit and having a BBQ in Cotopaxi National Park. And don't worry, the kid that "hated" me has since denied his words will be joining us.  

Never thought I would sleep in a guinea pig house

Yes, you read that correctly. Now that I have you hooked, enjoy my latest installment of my crazy Peace Corps life.

I have two friends that I like traveling with and we try to make the most of our time here. We essentially had 6 days free plan a trip during the holiday season of Carnival here in Ecuador. We decided to point our noses south. Equipped with our backpacks, tents, and spirit of adventure we hopped the 12 hour bus to Loja, the first of many butt-numbing bus rides.

Loja is a city in the mountains of the extreme south of Ecuador. I really liked the city. The historic district is beautiful and the climate was very agreeable. I will explore the city more fully when I have more time. For this trip however, it was just a stopover as we journeyed into the jungle. In Loja we met up with the 3^rd amigo. We stayed in a flop house of a hostel but when you are volunteer 6 bucks for a bed is not bad.

The next morning we hopped a bus to go into the Amazon Rainforest. We arrived in Zamora, a small city in the jungle at midday. They are famous for having the largest clock in Ecuador. Fittingly, this Ecua-timepiece is 30 minutes behind. Zamora is a jungle city which equates to heat and humidity. It was HOT. I am talking like Louisiana summer on steroids. We met up with a volunteer that lives around there and he took us to the national park to hike.

Zamora

Quick aside: before we made it to the national park we were bombarded with balloons and a shaving cream type spray as people young and old were “playing” Carnival. It is apparently hilarious to hit unsuspecting people with water balloons from 3^rd floor balconies and throw flour after they are wet. Two weeks ago I was running in Latacunga when out of nowhere I got shot in the face with this shaving cream stuff. Getting the Gringo must be worth extra points. Throughout our trip Carnival was “played” on us more times than I would like to recall…

Back to Zamora. We hiked around in the park and eventually arrived at a large waterfall. The cool moist air coming of the falls was invigorating. We spent 15 minutes or so admiring the beautiful waterfall. Then for some reason we started throwing rocks at the waterfall and seeing who could make it the highest and talking trash about each other’s girly throws. Poster boys of maturity.

We hiked back out of the park and decided to take a dip in a fast running river. The water was not that cold but the difference in temperature from the air to the water was extreme. I watched as one Ecuadorian man jumped from a rock into the fast running river and swam downstream in the rapids for about 100 yards. I asked him to teach me and he was happy to give me a lesson. After some hesitation I launched out and swam as hard as I could in order to get to the middle of the river before I was swept down into the rapids. It was a little sketch but so much fun! Things like that make you feel alive! After our swim we hopped the bus back to Loja where we arrived late that evening.

The next morning we caught a bus even further south. We went to Vilcabamba which is a city of expats mainly from the US. We spent the day looking for a place to camp. We hiked out to different places only to find they were full or too exposed. Finally we gave up and pitched our tents in the city park. City officials told us it was completely legal and backpackers camp there on a regular basis. Not 10 minutes after we erected our tents a man with dollars signs in his eyes came to us and instructed us that we could not camp there if we did not pay him 10 dollars. We were exhausted and didn’t feel like arguing so we paid the impromptu fee and the man left satisfied with his efforts. 

Some high school aged boys came to the park with a basketball so we asked to play with them. We divided up and played. I need to take this chance to trash on my good friend. To protect his identity I will call him Devino. He is very competitive and gives 110% in everything. Unfortunately 110% of zero basketball skills still equates to zero. Devin probably took 30 shots and made one. On the play following his one victorious shot he proceeded to launch the ball over the backboard from about 6 feet out. Downright impressive.

The next morning we broke camp and lumbered toward the bus terminal. We caught a bus headed north to Devino’s site that is essentially in the middle of nowhere. He lives very high in the páramo, basically in the grassy highlands. The last bus we took that day was one of the wildest buses I have ever been on. We caught the bus further south and thus we had seats, others were not that lucky. The bus stopped on the Panamerican highway before turning onto a dirt road that would lead us high into the rural Andes.

The stop was well known and there was an enormous crowd of people waiting to jam onto the bus. The bus probably had 50 seats and I can conservatively guess that there were 120 people crammed into every open space. Whole families would share two seats. For a period of time Justino had a woman sitting in his lap. I called to my other friend across the aisle to ask how he was doing. I could not see him due to the three people squeezed in the aisle between us but he informed me, in English, that rather large woman’s bosom was inches from his face. Oh Ecuadorian transportation, you are a cruel mother.

The bus slowly crawled up the windy dirt road and later that afternoon we hopped off in Devino’s site. It is a chilly site but had the indigenous residents were very warm and welcoming. All the houses are made of mud and the government has been building small concrete houses next to each one and is asking everyone to move. In consequence, Devino lives in the concrete house and his host family continues to live in the mud house. Can’t rush progress I suppose.

We planned on going backpacking that afternoon but the rain would not stop. We waited and waited for the rain to subside but finally we just hoisted our backpacks and headed towards the family farm where we intended on camping. We trudged through newly created streams and through muddy fields as the rain continued to pour. My boots are waterproof but only to a point. My shoes would be wet until the end of the trip. When we made it to the farm we were completely soaked through. Pitching tents in the downpour was not a possibility. The only option we had was to make camp in the only available shelter on the farm, a guinea pig house.

View from Devino's site

Luckily there was a small fire to keep the guinea pigs from dying of cold. We used the available dry wood to cook our hobo dinners and to partially dry our clothing. Animal lovers don’t worry, we didn’t eat the guinea pigs… this time. The fire was nice but the mud house was not well ventilated and quickly filled with smoke. We sat low on the floor to stay out of the worst of it. The 30 or so guinea pigs didn’t mind our company one bit as they quietly squealed throughout the night.

I had to play with the chanchitos

Sleeping in the smoky house was not comfortable or peaceful but at least the roof didn’t leak. We got up at 5 am in order to be clean up camp and get ready to help the family milk the cows at 6. They had no idea that the crazy Gringos were going to sleep in the guinea pig house and we preferred to keep it that way. We stood at the door of the house and watch the rain continue to fall. The family was late that day so we used that as an excuse to hike back through the rain and duck out of milking duty.

Before the "playing" began

Back at Devino’s house we put on dry clothing and I put on every pair of socks I brought. We were served Devino’s typical breakfast, a bowl of rice and potatoes. For that matter, it is his typical lunch and dinner. Meat is rarely eaten there. In the afternoon the rain stopped and the host family suddenly realized that it was Carnival so the “playing” commenced. We reluctantly came out and played with them. I do not know the appeal of continually soaking one another after you are drenched but Ecuadorians derive such pleasure from it. The kids had the shaving cream stuff and through active participation, I observed that getting shot in the orifices of the head is the main objective. I called it quits when the kids started throwing each other into Devino’s bio-digester that converts manure into methane gas. Even though it is a weird way to celebrate a holiday it was actually a lot of fun.

That night there was a fiesta that started at 8 pm. We physically couldn’t do it so we politely declined. The fiesta was very close to the house so we were lucky enough to hear the obnoxiously loud music all night. I do mean all night. We got up at 3:45 in the morning to catch the early bus and the party was still going strong.

Playing spoons

Another very long day of bus rides and we arrived in Latacunga. All told we rode nearly 40 hours on buses during our trip. We slept on the ground most nights. Everything I took with me still wreaks of campfire. We hiked with our full backpacks most of the trip and we did not have ideal weather conditions for most part. There are not many people in this world that would consider that a fun vacation but luckily I found two dudes that feel the same as I do. Devino and Justino, I am happy to call you guys my friends even if you both suck at basketball. 



The 3 Amigos