I spent last night in Baños again after taking a little road trip into the Oriente, or the jungle region of Ecuador, with the 'ol man. The road from Riobamba to Baños is significantly longer now thanks in whole to the vulcan Tungurahua which erupted a few years back and closed a major highway. Now what used to be a mere 30 minute trip is now a dusty 2 hour voyage through all sorts of terrain. Evidence of this can be veiwed most impressively just west of Baños where mud flows of cinder and ash wiped out some homes, a very large portion of the road, and a giant plastic parrot (polly want a thermal protective suit?). This, as an unfortunate result, has created insanely long lines of overly aggressive autos privados, while lathargic road crews continue to reconstruct this busy portion of the Ecuadorian highway (I think they are learning as they go...or going at it with only a shovel and a burro).

My father, as a side note hates both taxi drivers and bus drivers of this wild land, frequently referring to them tenderly as ¨those fuckers¨. He at times remindes me of an old man protecting his green lawn from rowdy kids, although his lawn would be Ecuador, and the rowdy kids, well....

The trip from my father´s town, La Sultana de los Andes to Baños crosses the cool high páramos where the giant volcano Chimborazo looms large and dark (and very often clouded over) down through green pasture land inhabited by the brightly clothed indígina and their more attractive traditional adobe and wood homes. Once past Baños and further east, the land transforms into lush rain forest, which according to my Father used to be covered with colorful breeds of birds and butterflies. By freak chance it seems, we did see one such specter of his past, the gallo de peña - an orange and black bird which contrasted strikingly against the green of the surrounding jungle...and yes, I am sure that it does tastes like chicken, which would explain their absence.

We made our way to further into the interior to El Pailon del Diablo, a massive waterfall just outside Baños on the clear waters of the rio verde. The private, family run nature preserve that it comes to be on, is well cared for and free of the abuse and trash that would otherwise prevail in other non-monitored areas of this country. The falls looked delicious, enough so that I wanted to gulp them down (I was thirsty) and the ferociousness with which they plummeted was equally impressive. I wanted to jump in, alas I would perish (because my superman undies were at the launders). Unique in their own way, they were however by no means as great as other falls such as Yellowstone, Yosemite, or more than likely the gushing fountains of beer in Mazatlan during spring break.

We stopped for lunch at a small house, on the side of the small road, that follows a not so small but deep river canyon into the amazon basin. The restaurant was actually a trout farm run by husband and wife, who cooked and served the fish on the spot. If my father did not know this place from previous visits I would not even have thought twice about the small trail leading from the highway and passed on by - the insights of a local: priceless. Our fish were served with arroz con plantanos y juego de la piña. It was to say, in two supreme words, quite delicious.


On further we drove through the pre-jungle of this lower basin towards Puyo and to the small oil towns therein. The main streets of these towns are usually lined with run down cement homes, mongrel perros, gatos, and older adobe and clay tiled buildings. Usually imprinted on these cement structures are faded coca-cola signs or pilsner advertisements plastered on sparce, road facing walls. These are the signs that seem to define the "buy this, it will cure all your troubles" mentality of this very identity lacking land. The USA seems to be at the forefront that feeds this horse doo to the masses (China coming in at a close second). The small dark people with round faces and sharp angular noses seem happy enough however, despite their apparent poverty. Contrary to the lack of wealth in this rough and beautiful land there seems to be a unity and familiarity that these smiley people share in these roughneck towns that we, in more developed nations, seem to lack, are losing, or have lost (thanks Wal-Mart de Chifa).

Now back cruising the cobblestone streets of Riobamba, tomorrow I head to Guayaquil via bus and the warm humid lands of Ecuador´s largest city.

I made it back to Riobamba on the luxurious Sucre Express bus service, a six hour ride from Cuenca, on Wednesday night only to fall a little ill. My father was not around, and I could not reach him all week because Mr. Smarty pants had his cell phone turned off... Survival was essential and so with that focus foremost in my mind I scrounged up some rice and avocados and lived off that until food stores became nil. I then contemplated eating whatever was growing out in his fields...clover or something green like that...the sheep were eating it so I supposed it would be ok. I guess I could have walked into town and gotten some supplies but energy levels were low and Mr. Hemingway and Vonnegut Jr. are lousy shoppers. Thankfully my Pops showed up with a bag full of bananas so all was saved. Not to fuss too much over my health however, it's not malaria or bubonic, it´s a cold but a pretty well entrenched cold like the viet-cong dug deep into their little dark tunnels. I've been trying to rest it out of me for the last couple of days but I sound like Darth Vader on codeine.

Riobamba is hopping tonight. I think there is some sort of fiesta going on...can you say DISCO!?¿?¿

El Nariz del Diablo

It was supposed to be the train ride built accross hell but it turned out to be more of a circus from hell. Back around a hundred years ago a bright lad had the idea of connecting Ecuador´s two major cities, Quito in the highlands and Guayaquil on the coast, by train. Construction began in 1899 and took a total of nine years to complete - god only know how many bananas. The only portion of this once grand line that currently runs is the portion that took longest to build. From the small cilantro smelling town of Alausi, where the decent begins is about a two hour bus ride from Riobamba, and then an 45 min train ride down the sheer rock face known as El Nariz del Diablo.

I met two girls Swiss/Austrian on the bus from Baños to Riobamba and after quickly forming a united fellowship of travellers international, we decided to take on the gringo clad adventure of the rails. Arriving at Riobamba´s recently renovated train station early Sunday morning at the wee hour of 6:00 we soon discovered that the train for whatever reason was not to arrive at Riobamba but could be caught from the small adobe town Alausi. We arrived at Alausi around 9am among a throng of whiteys and Gringos, all wanting to take part in this unique Andean action.

(The REAL Nariz del Diablo)

After waiting in a line to buy yet another ticket for this ride de Diablo and noses we boarded a crammed cattle car to begin our journey down (it is no longer allowed to ride on the roofs like monkeys as a Japanese tourist was decapitated about 5 months ago...way to ruin for everyone else, guy) again we had to keep our pants on as local train officials tried, in seemingly archaic fashion to fix a derailed car of railroad ties that was blocking the main track. This haphazard work went on in the warm sun until around Noon amid a throng of falling objects and bold but seemingly wreckless train workers.

Once on our way however nothing was to stop our cattle cattle car adventure as we descended deeper and deeper into Ecuadorian paramo terrain - except for about 45 mins later when the train was making its way back up the steep switchbacks where it...derailed again. After about a 30 minute wait to fix this new derailment the train, yes once again derailed for a record breaking third time. I will say, at least they were consistent. After losing complete faith in the homely attired officials manning this monkey ride, and fearing somewhat for my half Ecuadorian life, along with my European counterparts we started the trek back up to the town, about a 25 minute walk. We beat the train and acquired our tickets to the architectural gem of Ecuador, Cuenca. This train experience was to say at the very least, a very interesting perspective into the inner workings of Ecuadorian governmental agencies.

Lessons to be learned here? I suppose if you put yourself in the position to be a monkey you will be a monkey, monkey.

The journey to Cuenca is a four hour bus ride from Alausi which passes through poor, run down cement towns and eucalyptus forests. Wild packs of dogs are seen tearing at garbage bags sitting patiently on street corners and locals are seen staring blankly out of roughly built store fronts at the pan-american highway rushing quickly by.

Now in what is probably the cultural center of Ecuador my heart is at ease, and the rest and observing here in Ecuador´s third largest city, I think will be good.

(Cuenca)

(Quito´s Centro Historico)

The night is rainy, the guinea pig is roasting on the fire, and I am trying to figure out this keyboard de castillano. The twelve hours of beautiful air travel went off without a hitch. My Pops met me at the airport in Quito along with his younger half brother, Milton a pilot for some small Ecuadorian airline. We stayed the night at their hospitable house, along the outskirts of the 1.8 million inhabited city. Very friendly people. I slept in my younger cousin´s room, one of many cousins that I have never met...I believe they crammed the rest of the family into my other cousin, Milton Jr´s room...poor guy, original name though. I find they do that a lot around here i.e., lots of Jrs; must be a macho thing. At around 11pm Ecuador time, 9 my time they tried to shove the world´s toughest, and also the world´s bloodiest steak down my throat, much to my friendly chagrin. I ate half of it and started feeling a little self conscious when I noticed my Tia, Tio, along with Milton Jr watching me in curious anticipation trying to cut that meat brick with my butter knife. I was the winner however and the steak the loser...I think...I am feeling a little pukey now though.

I am currently in the little spa town of Baños (they have a tilde ñ, sweet!) suffering from mild elevation sickness, or steak sickness, or diesel fume sickness...take your pick. Its about a 2 hour stuffy bus ride from Riobamba along some very beautiful but treacherous road, paved and stone layed, mudslides, hail, and oh a little thunder. It has been 16 years since I was last here. I wonder if it missed me?

Baños is a little hustle and bustle stop before you head over the eastern side of the Andes to the oriente, or the amazon basin. It was founded in 1500´s but one couldn´t really tell with out the beauty of historic documentation and guide books. Its a colorful town but lacking any substantial beauty, architecturally speaking...its surrounding natural beauty is however breathtaking. Waterfalls cascade down emerald green slopes that steeply surround the town with a absinthe like quality. One can only speculate the view attained on a clear day of the vulcan Tungurahua directly above, at 5016 meters (you do the math).

Time to hunt down some grub.

FLIGHT OF THE CONDOR, MAN!







Did you know?...

Ecuador boasts 35,000 species of orchids, the most of any known place in the world (this includes the universe as well, fyi). Its bio-diversity does not fail to impress there, however as Ecuador claims the most species of birds of any country in South America, and also 10% percent of the world's total population as well...chicken anybody? Geographically the size of Nevada, it posses 33 volcanoes, 8 of which are active; Cotopaxi (19,388 ft) being the highest active volcano in the world...and they're still growing, like Carl Malden's nose.
A more socially sobering statistic, however is that 40-60% (sources vary) of the country's 14 million live below the poverty line. In the United States 12% live below this indicator, and that's bad. Next time you turn on your hot water or head off to the grocery store you better count your little blessings...

Flight of the Condor, Man!

I'm off again to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of the 3rd world! Yes, it is that time again - to travel to the center of the earth and visit my lineage, consume solely cooked food, drink bubbly spring water, and partake in that barbarism know as "air travel". Follow me if you wish, on my three week voyage to the land of my father, here at my blog on the spot or from any of the various spy satellites in the southern hemisphere or google.

...It shall be the adventure that defines our generation…or, just another three weeks in my life gone awry…