you want to take travelers words for things because travelers are the people you can talk to in your own language (sometimes) about things that are relevant to your life, ie. where to go next. sure, these travelers can often times be anybody and they are from all over the world and hold all sorts of opinions and biases relevant to their parts of the world, but still, if one recommends a hotel, or even an entire town, you usually listen. you dont believe everything they say, but you log their opinions in a way that you wouldnt do so for a cab driver or a hotel receptionist telling you the price of their cab or the quality of their hotel.
my advice: dont listen to what people have to say about lima. all ive heard for as long as ive been in peru, from other travelers, is about how lima is a big, polluted, city that is not authenticly peruvian. however, after seeing lima, all ive learned about the traveler advice is this: most are not from big cities, and most are uncomfortable with seeing successful peruvians living in the same quality of life that they live. it doesnt fit in with their visions of travel: why travel to a place overrun by starbucks just like home?
lima has some of the best restaurants ive eaten at - some excellent ceviche, and they were showing little man at the theater. im not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you that it was an excellent movie, but one can hardly blam lima for that. much of our time was spent sitting at a cafe called cafe cafe. luckily they have two locations, so we werent sitting in the same place all day. one was located off of a plaza with a large grassy area. the other was located on a cliff looking out over the pacific ocean where people were paragliding and things like that.
we also went to starbucks, but i avoided buying anything. it was just interesting that there was one. we also went to the arcade, and i played a boxing game where you actually throw your hands against an image on the screen. i beat the first guy, but the second guy beat me even though i had knocked him down twice in a round, but he came back and knocked me down three times in a row. im no video game junkie or anything like that, but i do think that the game was rigged against me. anna and i cooke d a nice dinner for ourselves at the hostel including cheese and sansage and hearts of palm (not as cheap as in ecuador).
after lima, we went to a town on the coast of peru called chincha. it is in a town close to chincha called el carmen that the black population of peru lives and musicians like susanna baca come from. unfortunately, on the day we went there, she wasnt there and there was no-one else approximating her music, so nothing much going on. so we did get to look at people and drink beer at places, but in the end, it was just a small town. we sat around in the square and watched the little kids do this dance along with the rhythm of this other little kid who beat on a box. tourists seemed interested, but when they left, the little kids ran around the square and seemed very interested in anna and i who were the only other tourists remaining. they sat on the bench across from us and smiled. if we said 'hello', they lost their minds and did kartwheels and were shy and covered their faces. one brother and sister came up to us and laughed and ran away, and then came back with their mother who urged them to talk and it turns out that they knew a couple of words of english, but were embarrassed to say them. it got cold so we went into a restaurant and drank a beer. we were the only people there until an entire soccer team came in and ordered lots of food and fanta. that was our cue to leave so we did. back in chincha, we sat in a chinese restaurant for a while. our walking in seemed a big event for the people working there, as two waiters came to us and one insisted on turning the pages of the menu for us. surely this was well intended, but it was also unsurprising that the pages she turned to were the more expensive pages. then, when we ordered sodas, they came over witha bucket full of straws for us to choose from. on the one hand, it was more sanitary because the waiters hand didnt touch the straws, and on the other hand it was less so because my hand touched way more than one straw. if this were not done for sanitary purposes, then i dont know why it was done. well, there were different colored straws and it was nice to have a choice. out of one window, there was an old man holding a bag of candy who wanted our food, or to sell us candy, or both. out of the other window was a lady selling bread, but she kept dropping the bread on the floor and putting it back in the basket, so it wasnt a too imspiring scene. not that weve been spoiled by lima or anything like that...
today, we are in pisco, famous for pisco sours. certainly not famous for internet speed or sunny weather. here our plan is to walk around, eat, walk around more, take naps, eat, and then find things to do at night. then tomorrow we will go look at sea lions and other marine life off the coast.
the big news of recent times is our acquiescing to teach english in cuenca, ecuador. it turns out it is the best deal for us after all. certainly teaching english as a foreign language does not qualify as any sort of noble work. however, is it simply spreading the seed of imperialism? i think not. the people do pay for the classes, and besides, we are in a spanish speaking country and spanish is the second most spoken language throughouth the world, so spanish can hardly be seen as the victim. and if it is english that is necessary for people to get to where they want to be in life, then it is english that will be taught. thats how i view that. also, many of the volunteer projects out here require you to pay to join. can you imagine that? paying to volunteer? ha! thats a crime against idealism. so the moral of the story is that if you want to do noble work, the peace corps is the way to go: they seem to actually do stuff. if you want to live in another country with another culture and language for a while with a lifestyle that approximates the one you are used to, teaching english is the way to go. if you want to live in another country with another culture and language for a while with a lifestyle economically better than the one you are used to, an embassy job is the way to go.
ADDENDUM:
its a bit later now and i realize that i forgot a few things.
one is that in lima, there was a street called pizza street. thats what it was called. on it, there were many restaurants, all of which selling pizza. there was a cuban restaurant that played son and sold rice and beans and pizza. there was a brazilian restaurant that gave samba lessons, served steaks and pizza. there was a mexican restaurant that served burritos and pizza, and there were a bunch of italian restaurants. it was a street blocked off from the rest of the world. a pedestrian street that once you entered, you were mobbed by a million people holding out menues trying to convince you that their restaurant was better than the next. in one case, the menu person put their menu over another menu and pushed a guy out of the way. all of these people if you walk away, offer you free pisco sours, free beer, or free sangria. having already committed to papa johns the next day for their 2-for-tuesday deal, we wanted mexican and went for that. the reason i mention that is because here in pisco, there is a mini pizza street (my rather dim previous view of pisco was based on a number of factors: 1. i walked the wrong way out of the hotel in search of the main square, which i did not find. when i eventually found it it was lively and clean. 2. the internet shop i was in, being not around the main square, was subpar. now, i am in an up to date dsl type facility. 3. it was raining. now its sunny. can you believe it? sunny!). of course they dont sell pizza, rather more traditional peruvian food like stuffed potatoes, ceviche and rotisserie chicken. and they dont have the big city agression of the limeños, but its a pizza street nonetheless. oh, and it isnt called pizza street, but they do offer free pisco sours.
another thing: here on the south coast of peru, it is wine country. that means that in chincha, we bought the tiniest bottle of fig wine. we havent drank it yet, but i will let know how great it is for all of you bootleggers out there. also, i bought a bag of fruit that i thought were big grapes. but really they were tiny plums. the tiniest youve ever seen, with the tiniest pits. but plums nonetheless. anna and i ate most of them on the bus-ride from chincha to pisco and when we missed our stop and had to get off the bus in the middle of nowhere in order to catch another bus going the other way, at least i had little plums with me...
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Saturday, August 26, 2006
donkey time
when passing by different animals, it never ceases to amaze me how humans have managed to control most of them. for example - if i were a dog, i would like to think that if i were starving, i would simply jump up and bite the neck of the meatiest human i saw and eat for days off of that. if i were a horse, and some guy was whipping me to make me walk and carry heave stuff, i would like to think that i would hoof him in the head and be done with it all. if i were a cow, i would like to think that i would gore at least one person before they ground me up - and im sure pigs and sheep could do something hardcore as well. however, ive figured out teh weay in which people control animals - its the same method that people use to control other people: easy and secure access to food!
people as well as animals are generally lazy and seek the nearest and easiest options for whatever it is they are seeking. and, if a guy promises a donkey some food, the donkey will gladly carry 200 pounds worth of baggage on its back while scaling the andes mountains in service of trekkers such as myself. of course, donkeys eat grass, which is readily accessible in many places, but they want the good stuff. for example: anna and i had a tradition when we were living in the tent during our trek where before we went to bed, we would eat chocolate. very exciting, i know, but it was actually good chocolate. anyway, one morning, we woke up, unzipped the tent, and a donkey was standing right there so that we couldnt even get out without moving the donkey. luckily it is easy to move a donkey, just by moving near him, but as soon as anna left the tent, he came back and inched ever so closer so that his snout actually crossed the plane of the tent door. after staring at him for a while and petting his head, i paid him no mind and continued packing my stuff and emptying the tent. then, i went over to eat breakfast with the rest of our trekking troop. however, the donkey hovered around the bag where the chocolate and yesterdays garbage was. i watched him as he inched ever so much closer to it and put his tennis ball sized nostrils all over it, savoring the sweet smell of leftovers. he got none.
the next day, we were eating lunch next to a river. it was an ideal spot. snow capped mountins, little brook, warm weather, but a fresh breeze, all that. then a donkey came up. we were eating apples and cookies and the donkey stopped short ehind us and just stood with his stoic donkey lips pointed at the ground and his massive donkey head (think horse head on deer body) hung low under the weight of its mass. he was peaceful enough, so we kept eating and turned back to the river. when i turned back around, the donkey was directly in my face so that if he had wanted to, he could have swallowed me whole through his nose. it was then that i figured something else out about donkeys: the absurd size of their head in relation to their body serves as an optical illusion. a donkey, if approaching you at eye level, and from sraight on, can approach you without you really noticing because the whole proportion of the head to their body makes it virtually impossible to gauge any depth perception. head moves closer, the long donkey snout is right next to you before you know it - before you can really understand whether or not the donkey is moving, or putting you under a spell with its enormous head. looking at a donkey straight on is like looking through a fish-eye lens. anyway, this donkey was rewarded with a portion of apple that anna didnt want - not that there was no grass around, or even low bushes that he could have eaten, but he wanted the good stuff.
the next morning, while we were waiting around in the morning to start walking, i noticed a donkey standing around rubbing his nose in some dirt. under closer inspection, i saw that he was in fact digging up the dirt with his hoof so as to find roots under the surface of the earth. then, with his big fat donkey tongue, he would wrap up the roots, and with his teeth and a tug, using his neck, he would rip the roots from the ground. then, he would, with the roots in his mouth, swirl the roots in the sand as you or i might swirl a piece of bread in some remaining sauce on our plates after eating. this donkey did not want the good stuff.
at last, when we finished trekking, there was a little area for everyone to sit. it may have been someones house, but they let people hang out there. the donkeys came too, and we were eating oranges. i had finished peeling my orange and was about to eat it when two donkeys came and stood in front of me. their faces are too stoic to really beg like dogs (there was a dog sitting next to him doing the thing with their eyes and ears and wagging its tail and whimpering). instead, they just stood straight, stared at me, and i stared at them to make sure that they wouldnt come so close as to steal my food from me, but even as i stared at them, they mesmerized me with the gigantic head and i was caught off guard until before i knew it, they were almost with their snouts resting on my leg. i was bewildered, and in awe of this awesome animal who had the power to apparently stop time for a second or two as it moved closer. i then realized that the huge head was really housing an equally huge brain, capable of contacting other dimentions, and their ears - their huge point elf, spok ears the size of traffic cones were really antennae used to contact other planets. i decided to placate these donkeys with my orange peel, lest they think badly of me when the donkey president calls upon his subjects to begin using their space/time manipulation skills for world domination. when that day comes, i will gladly carry their bags for them.
people as well as animals are generally lazy and seek the nearest and easiest options for whatever it is they are seeking. and, if a guy promises a donkey some food, the donkey will gladly carry 200 pounds worth of baggage on its back while scaling the andes mountains in service of trekkers such as myself. of course, donkeys eat grass, which is readily accessible in many places, but they want the good stuff. for example: anna and i had a tradition when we were living in the tent during our trek where before we went to bed, we would eat chocolate. very exciting, i know, but it was actually good chocolate. anyway, one morning, we woke up, unzipped the tent, and a donkey was standing right there so that we couldnt even get out without moving the donkey. luckily it is easy to move a donkey, just by moving near him, but as soon as anna left the tent, he came back and inched ever so closer so that his snout actually crossed the plane of the tent door. after staring at him for a while and petting his head, i paid him no mind and continued packing my stuff and emptying the tent. then, i went over to eat breakfast with the rest of our trekking troop. however, the donkey hovered around the bag where the chocolate and yesterdays garbage was. i watched him as he inched ever so much closer to it and put his tennis ball sized nostrils all over it, savoring the sweet smell of leftovers. he got none.
the next day, we were eating lunch next to a river. it was an ideal spot. snow capped mountins, little brook, warm weather, but a fresh breeze, all that. then a donkey came up. we were eating apples and cookies and the donkey stopped short ehind us and just stood with his stoic donkey lips pointed at the ground and his massive donkey head (think horse head on deer body) hung low under the weight of its mass. he was peaceful enough, so we kept eating and turned back to the river. when i turned back around, the donkey was directly in my face so that if he had wanted to, he could have swallowed me whole through his nose. it was then that i figured something else out about donkeys: the absurd size of their head in relation to their body serves as an optical illusion. a donkey, if approaching you at eye level, and from sraight on, can approach you without you really noticing because the whole proportion of the head to their body makes it virtually impossible to gauge any depth perception. head moves closer, the long donkey snout is right next to you before you know it - before you can really understand whether or not the donkey is moving, or putting you under a spell with its enormous head. looking at a donkey straight on is like looking through a fish-eye lens. anyway, this donkey was rewarded with a portion of apple that anna didnt want - not that there was no grass around, or even low bushes that he could have eaten, but he wanted the good stuff.
the next morning, while we were waiting around in the morning to start walking, i noticed a donkey standing around rubbing his nose in some dirt. under closer inspection, i saw that he was in fact digging up the dirt with his hoof so as to find roots under the surface of the earth. then, with his big fat donkey tongue, he would wrap up the roots, and with his teeth and a tug, using his neck, he would rip the roots from the ground. then, he would, with the roots in his mouth, swirl the roots in the sand as you or i might swirl a piece of bread in some remaining sauce on our plates after eating. this donkey did not want the good stuff.
at last, when we finished trekking, there was a little area for everyone to sit. it may have been someones house, but they let people hang out there. the donkeys came too, and we were eating oranges. i had finished peeling my orange and was about to eat it when two donkeys came and stood in front of me. their faces are too stoic to really beg like dogs (there was a dog sitting next to him doing the thing with their eyes and ears and wagging its tail and whimpering). instead, they just stood straight, stared at me, and i stared at them to make sure that they wouldnt come so close as to steal my food from me, but even as i stared at them, they mesmerized me with the gigantic head and i was caught off guard until before i knew it, they were almost with their snouts resting on my leg. i was bewildered, and in awe of this awesome animal who had the power to apparently stop time for a second or two as it moved closer. i then realized that the huge head was really housing an equally huge brain, capable of contacting other dimentions, and their ears - their huge point elf, spok ears the size of traffic cones were really antennae used to contact other planets. i decided to placate these donkeys with my orange peel, lest they think badly of me when the donkey president calls upon his subjects to begin using their space/time manipulation skills for world domination. when that day comes, i will gladly carry their bags for them.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
the point A to point B ness of it all
ive found that i can be a bit testy on busses. im way too tall for them and my knees are always pressed against the back of some seat that seems to be padded with spiked bats, bowling balls and various angular shapes made of concrete. also, the behavior of others on busses often distracts me from my stated purpose of sleeping and listening to music.
for example: the other day, on our way out of baños, a man got on the bus with his family, and although i knew someone would eventually sit next to me because if they didnt, the bus would not move until it was totally full and then some - the fact that he and his family were the ones to have to sit next to and around me put them on my bad side from off the bat. fair? no. logical? no. but still, it happened, and when he produced the 3 liter bottle of coke, no doubt to be fed to the baby of the family for the express purpose of keeping the baby awake and crying throughot the night, i cringed. and when the man requested that anna and i close the window we were sitting next to, a simple NO was all i could muster up. then, when he explained that he wanted the window closed due to the possibility of volcanic ash pouring through the window, i was quick to point out that no volcanic ash had yet poured through the window and also that with the wondow closed, the bus would be too hot and considering all the coughing and sneezing and baby-poo that went on throughout the night, i dont feel too dumb for having protested blindly against teh window being closed. through the open window, we got a clearer view of volcano tungurahua in the nighttime, glowing orange - a bit more than we had expected it too, yet still, we considered ourselves lucky to have seen it because the fact that there is an active volcano near to baños is a huge tourist draw and everyone talks about whether or not they had seen the lava. the fact that anna and i had not seen the lava due to too much cloud cover left us feeling a bit numb. even though we heard the volcano rumble on a number of occasions, the fact that we didnt see the lava left us feeling a bit jealous of the travelers that had. this feeling ended on our bus-ride out of town. seeing the lava made everything so perfect for us. and the nerve of that man trying to ruin our fun.
it wasnt until the next morning, watching the news in a loja restaurant that we learned that the volcano tungurahua had in fact erupted, killing a person and destroying, totally destroying a number of villages. baños was covered in centimeters worth of ash, and the eruption happened 15 minutes after we left.
sometimes travel is a noun - that is, the thing you do when you quit your job, get rid of your apartment, pack the things you need into a backpack, and take off for some part of the world you havent yet seen, just to be there. sometimes travel is a verb. these are the parts of travel that the travel marketing agency (whomever they may be) dont advertise:
we were in a restaurant in loja at 8 in the morning because we arrived in loja at 630 in the morning from our night bus (crying kid, family sleeping in the aisle blocking bathroom access...). the plan was to catch another night bus out of loja to piura, peru, but this bus did not leave until 1030 pm. loja is not a city that warrants an overnight stay, even if it is to recover from an overnight bus, and our budget does not allow for such extravagances as getting a hotel room for the day just to relax in. so, our mission was to be in loja for the day without a place to stay. we started at the restaurant, and the volcano eruption, even though the true magnitude of it didnt hit us (that is a metaphor) yet, provided a good amount of conversation which took up some time, which is really all we were asking of things.
throughout that day, we did 3 hours of internet. went back to the same restaurant twice. bought peanut butter. nearly dozed off in the main square. had a beer at a shady place where scantily clad women would come downstairs every so often, followed by men who went to the bar to buy one cigarette: and im not moralizing, but its just funny that this was the only bar listed in the tourist brochure handed out at the tourist information center on the main square of the town. also, most every other establishment in loja was a copy store. it was the strangest thing that really makes you think about how and why cities get known for certain things. there must be some human business instinct that makes people want to outdo each other no matter what. some places did copies for $.03, then the next store over would do them for $.02, and the one after that would do them for $.01. even the candy stores had copy machines in them - as a rule. i cant imagine how the laws of supply and demand have so effected the landscape of this particular city, but it is a bit outrageous and funny.
we walked around town twice. looked at the skinned pigs at the market - with the skin sold separately next to the body. its quite impressive how they skin pigs in ecuador. we counted the vegetables and tried to find fruit that we had never before seen. we walked around the supermarket looking for nothing in particular.
and, at some point it became 8 o clock and we could stand it no longer so we went to the bus station in hopes that somehow time would speed up if we conceded our mission. it didnt. but by the time we did get on the bus i was quite tired and ready to wake up at the border, stumble across with my passport, and get back on the bus without even having to really open my eyes - kind of like you try to do when going to pee at night. all was going well, i got off the bus at the border groggy enough, but as it turns out, the border was closed. no, the room in which the person was to sit and stamp your passports from was open, but there would not be anyone there until 5 o clock. it was now 3 o clock. so, for two hours we waited at the border with the peruvian passport stamping building in plain sight and well lit and manned. so, the obvious questions arise: is this something that happens every night? if so, then why do they send busses to arrive at the border 2 hours early? why is no-one there? dont countries usually want to man their borders? certainly there were peruvians coming across to ecuador carrying handfuls of chickens - do they not need their passports stamped? it was all very confusing, and while traveling, there are often things that are confusing and most of the time this is what is exciting about traveling because you are in a new place where things operate totally different than what you are used to and you gain perspective on things that way and get reminded that there is no one way of doing things. then there are situations where the bus drops you off at the border 2 hours before the border opens - the border is closed, but the passport stamping shack is open and mosquitoes are biting you and you think, no, this is not cultural, someone just messed up! and from here, you think, it will all be different in peru. in peru, people wont sleep in the aisles of busses blocking the way to the bathroom - look, the peruvian border is open 24 hours, ahh... things will be different in peru.
and then you get to peru and ride through a coastal desert and see ruins of ancient civilizations and get vegetables with your meat and beans with your rice and see the snowy peaks of the andes, and you find the bootleg 'little man' dvd youve been searching for, and you find purple corn (purple!) and even though you are weary from having traveled, your love of travel is renewed.
but then you also know you have to get a job at some point too...
for example: the other day, on our way out of baños, a man got on the bus with his family, and although i knew someone would eventually sit next to me because if they didnt, the bus would not move until it was totally full and then some - the fact that he and his family were the ones to have to sit next to and around me put them on my bad side from off the bat. fair? no. logical? no. but still, it happened, and when he produced the 3 liter bottle of coke, no doubt to be fed to the baby of the family for the express purpose of keeping the baby awake and crying throughot the night, i cringed. and when the man requested that anna and i close the window we were sitting next to, a simple NO was all i could muster up. then, when he explained that he wanted the window closed due to the possibility of volcanic ash pouring through the window, i was quick to point out that no volcanic ash had yet poured through the window and also that with the wondow closed, the bus would be too hot and considering all the coughing and sneezing and baby-poo that went on throughout the night, i dont feel too dumb for having protested blindly against teh window being closed. through the open window, we got a clearer view of volcano tungurahua in the nighttime, glowing orange - a bit more than we had expected it too, yet still, we considered ourselves lucky to have seen it because the fact that there is an active volcano near to baños is a huge tourist draw and everyone talks about whether or not they had seen the lava. the fact that anna and i had not seen the lava due to too much cloud cover left us feeling a bit numb. even though we heard the volcano rumble on a number of occasions, the fact that we didnt see the lava left us feeling a bit jealous of the travelers that had. this feeling ended on our bus-ride out of town. seeing the lava made everything so perfect for us. and the nerve of that man trying to ruin our fun.
it wasnt until the next morning, watching the news in a loja restaurant that we learned that the volcano tungurahua had in fact erupted, killing a person and destroying, totally destroying a number of villages. baños was covered in centimeters worth of ash, and the eruption happened 15 minutes after we left.
sometimes travel is a noun - that is, the thing you do when you quit your job, get rid of your apartment, pack the things you need into a backpack, and take off for some part of the world you havent yet seen, just to be there. sometimes travel is a verb. these are the parts of travel that the travel marketing agency (whomever they may be) dont advertise:
we were in a restaurant in loja at 8 in the morning because we arrived in loja at 630 in the morning from our night bus (crying kid, family sleeping in the aisle blocking bathroom access...). the plan was to catch another night bus out of loja to piura, peru, but this bus did not leave until 1030 pm. loja is not a city that warrants an overnight stay, even if it is to recover from an overnight bus, and our budget does not allow for such extravagances as getting a hotel room for the day just to relax in. so, our mission was to be in loja for the day without a place to stay. we started at the restaurant, and the volcano eruption, even though the true magnitude of it didnt hit us (that is a metaphor) yet, provided a good amount of conversation which took up some time, which is really all we were asking of things.
throughout that day, we did 3 hours of internet. went back to the same restaurant twice. bought peanut butter. nearly dozed off in the main square. had a beer at a shady place where scantily clad women would come downstairs every so often, followed by men who went to the bar to buy one cigarette: and im not moralizing, but its just funny that this was the only bar listed in the tourist brochure handed out at the tourist information center on the main square of the town. also, most every other establishment in loja was a copy store. it was the strangest thing that really makes you think about how and why cities get known for certain things. there must be some human business instinct that makes people want to outdo each other no matter what. some places did copies for $.03, then the next store over would do them for $.02, and the one after that would do them for $.01. even the candy stores had copy machines in them - as a rule. i cant imagine how the laws of supply and demand have so effected the landscape of this particular city, but it is a bit outrageous and funny.
we walked around town twice. looked at the skinned pigs at the market - with the skin sold separately next to the body. its quite impressive how they skin pigs in ecuador. we counted the vegetables and tried to find fruit that we had never before seen. we walked around the supermarket looking for nothing in particular.
and, at some point it became 8 o clock and we could stand it no longer so we went to the bus station in hopes that somehow time would speed up if we conceded our mission. it didnt. but by the time we did get on the bus i was quite tired and ready to wake up at the border, stumble across with my passport, and get back on the bus without even having to really open my eyes - kind of like you try to do when going to pee at night. all was going well, i got off the bus at the border groggy enough, but as it turns out, the border was closed. no, the room in which the person was to sit and stamp your passports from was open, but there would not be anyone there until 5 o clock. it was now 3 o clock. so, for two hours we waited at the border with the peruvian passport stamping building in plain sight and well lit and manned. so, the obvious questions arise: is this something that happens every night? if so, then why do they send busses to arrive at the border 2 hours early? why is no-one there? dont countries usually want to man their borders? certainly there were peruvians coming across to ecuador carrying handfuls of chickens - do they not need their passports stamped? it was all very confusing, and while traveling, there are often things that are confusing and most of the time this is what is exciting about traveling because you are in a new place where things operate totally different than what you are used to and you gain perspective on things that way and get reminded that there is no one way of doing things. then there are situations where the bus drops you off at the border 2 hours before the border opens - the border is closed, but the passport stamping shack is open and mosquitoes are biting you and you think, no, this is not cultural, someone just messed up! and from here, you think, it will all be different in peru. in peru, people wont sleep in the aisles of busses blocking the way to the bathroom - look, the peruvian border is open 24 hours, ahh... things will be different in peru.
and then you get to peru and ride through a coastal desert and see ruins of ancient civilizations and get vegetables with your meat and beans with your rice and see the snowy peaks of the andes, and you find the bootleg 'little man' dvd youve been searching for, and you find purple corn (purple!) and even though you are weary from having traveled, your love of travel is renewed.
but then you also know you have to get a job at some point too...
Thursday, August 17, 2006
actually...
ive decided that its easier for me to load pictures up on to this website:
www.360.yahoo.com/quuz722
so, go to that site, or just click on the "ant on yahoo" link on this page to view some of the pictures ive been taking.
yes it confusing for me to have two web pages, but its the way things are, isnt it?
www.360.yahoo.com/quuz722
so, go to that site, or just click on the "ant on yahoo" link on this page to view some of the pictures ive been taking.
yes it confusing for me to have two web pages, but its the way things are, isnt it?
Monday, August 14, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
monkey love
one day when im back in a place that has the computer capabilities to upload pictures onto blogs, there will be a very funny picture on my blog accompanying this entry...
the picture is of a monkey sitting in my lap. big deal, you say: mine is not the first lap in which a monkey has sat. yet however, this was quite an alarming experience for me.
what happened was this: we were at this place called isla de los monos, which means island of the monkeys, and once we got there, there was a pool and there were plenty of monkeys in the trees and swinging on vines, using their tails to hold themselves while the rest of their 4 limbs hung free. unfortunately i was to see a fifth limb all too close-up.
in any event, there was one particular monkey who seemed very friendly with the human beings. all the human beings liked him too because he was sociable and let people pet him. he didnt give outbreak to anyone so he seemed pretty clean and he was cool. sure, he stole a little girls orange and began eating it, then emptied out all of the cups of beer into his mouth. but these are the things monkeys do, right? they play and flip around and act very athletic and mischievous. also, it was the first monkey anna had ever seen so it was fun to watch her run and hide every time the monkey came near.
so the monkey was a good monkey and soon we left the pool area and went for a walk through the jungle area towards the river. it wasnt long before we noticed that the monkey was following us. each time we turned around, the monkey was there, a few paces behind us. once i waited behind the monkey to see what he was doing and it seemed that he would wait for us to walk a bit and then run after us just to keep us in sight. the running theory was that a) anna had some oreos in her bag that the monkey wanted and so he was following us hoping for some food because people by the pool had spoiled him into thinking he was an oreo eating, beer drinking kind of monkey. b) anna had seen a monkey in the dressing room as she changed into her bathing suit. she wasnt sure if it was the same monkey, but perhaps it was, and he had been smitten by anna.
both of these theories held up for some time, because when we returned from our walk to the pool area, the monkey was there yet again and this time he got even closer, just as people bond over a nice hike. but he was physcally closer and trying to hold our hands so we could feel the leathery palms and the leathery feet and te leathery tail grip - really, holding onto the tip of his tail was much like holding onto a tennis racket. very odd, very cool. alex says that if he could have any animal part, it would be a tail, and with such a grip, i couldnt disagree, although i had said that i wouldnt mind a baboon ass... but i digress.
anna wanted not to be around the monkey and plus the sun was comig out, so she went down to the pool to swim for a while. during this time, the monkey made his tru intentions clear as he hopped up onto my lap without me being able to protest. i didnt know what to do. should i treat him like a cat? jumping onto laps is distinctly cat like... should i throw him off in fear that he would give me lice and outbreak? many are the movies and theories advertising the terror of such an encounter. should i try to talk to him? michael jackson has a monkey, or is it a chimp? should i do scientific things, like hold his hands more and remark about how similar he and i really are - the temptation was large. really, monkeys are a lot like humans. its true. while i decided, the monkey took the initiative again and began making himself very comfortable while in my lap - that is - utilizing the fact that he has hands that grip, just like us. he stopped soon thereafter and i was all prepared to pass it off as though he were just scratching, until he showed off his other monkey skill, utilizing his ultra-flexible back and neck bones and muscles. soon, the true extent to which he liked me became readily evident, and as it did, i thrust the monkey off my lap, perhaps just in time to have avoided... who knows... a messy situation.
the picture is of a monkey sitting in my lap. big deal, you say: mine is not the first lap in which a monkey has sat. yet however, this was quite an alarming experience for me.
what happened was this: we were at this place called isla de los monos, which means island of the monkeys, and once we got there, there was a pool and there were plenty of monkeys in the trees and swinging on vines, using their tails to hold themselves while the rest of their 4 limbs hung free. unfortunately i was to see a fifth limb all too close-up.
in any event, there was one particular monkey who seemed very friendly with the human beings. all the human beings liked him too because he was sociable and let people pet him. he didnt give outbreak to anyone so he seemed pretty clean and he was cool. sure, he stole a little girls orange and began eating it, then emptied out all of the cups of beer into his mouth. but these are the things monkeys do, right? they play and flip around and act very athletic and mischievous. also, it was the first monkey anna had ever seen so it was fun to watch her run and hide every time the monkey came near.
so the monkey was a good monkey and soon we left the pool area and went for a walk through the jungle area towards the river. it wasnt long before we noticed that the monkey was following us. each time we turned around, the monkey was there, a few paces behind us. once i waited behind the monkey to see what he was doing and it seemed that he would wait for us to walk a bit and then run after us just to keep us in sight. the running theory was that a) anna had some oreos in her bag that the monkey wanted and so he was following us hoping for some food because people by the pool had spoiled him into thinking he was an oreo eating, beer drinking kind of monkey. b) anna had seen a monkey in the dressing room as she changed into her bathing suit. she wasnt sure if it was the same monkey, but perhaps it was, and he had been smitten by anna.
both of these theories held up for some time, because when we returned from our walk to the pool area, the monkey was there yet again and this time he got even closer, just as people bond over a nice hike. but he was physcally closer and trying to hold our hands so we could feel the leathery palms and the leathery feet and te leathery tail grip - really, holding onto the tip of his tail was much like holding onto a tennis racket. very odd, very cool. alex says that if he could have any animal part, it would be a tail, and with such a grip, i couldnt disagree, although i had said that i wouldnt mind a baboon ass... but i digress.
anna wanted not to be around the monkey and plus the sun was comig out, so she went down to the pool to swim for a while. during this time, the monkey made his tru intentions clear as he hopped up onto my lap without me being able to protest. i didnt know what to do. should i treat him like a cat? jumping onto laps is distinctly cat like... should i throw him off in fear that he would give me lice and outbreak? many are the movies and theories advertising the terror of such an encounter. should i try to talk to him? michael jackson has a monkey, or is it a chimp? should i do scientific things, like hold his hands more and remark about how similar he and i really are - the temptation was large. really, monkeys are a lot like humans. its true. while i decided, the monkey took the initiative again and began making himself very comfortable while in my lap - that is - utilizing the fact that he has hands that grip, just like us. he stopped soon thereafter and i was all prepared to pass it off as though he were just scratching, until he showed off his other monkey skill, utilizing his ultra-flexible back and neck bones and muscles. soon, the true extent to which he liked me became readily evident, and as it did, i thrust the monkey off my lap, perhaps just in time to have avoided... who knows... a messy situation.
Monday, August 07, 2006
people, pt1
i had at one point told myself that i would never blog just for the sake of blogging and that people did to hear random thoughts on random things. however, the whole thing with a blog is that people read it when they want to so i cannot be clamed for pushing boring news onto people.
in any event, since nothing terribly extrordinary has happened in the past few days - well, traveling is always extrordinary and great, as is life, but nothing particular has happened, so i will do my best to let you guys know of the tales and woes of other travelers:
the other night in otavalo, anna and i went out to a place we thought was cool. it is called sahara and is a place that sells falaffels and hummus and things like that, but since they really specialize in making homemade bread, they also sell pizza. however, since it is one of the only dishes that comes with a vegetable that isnt iceberg lettuce in all of ecuador (or so it seems), we liked to stick with the fallafel. very good. however, upon walking in, we ran into a slovenian and a dutch couple (two couples, not a slovenian/dutch mixture). the slovenians we stayed with in vilcabamba, though never spoke to. we recognized each other, though they recognized me first because ive taken to wearing, much like my skin, this italy soccer sweatchirt that i bought just moments after the world cup. sure im a front runner, but the story is that i was cold and needed something to wear and it was the only article of clothing in xl in cuenca. nonetheless, this sweatshirt has prompted many a traveler and ecuadorian to ask me if i am from italy. evidently, the slovenian guy was one of the many to ask me this question. being that slovenia is so close to italy, they are somewhat of futbol rivals, so the sweatshirt aroused some sort of passion that inspired memory in these folks. as for me, i remember this couple because they set our house on fire. our house was connected by 4 rooms, and the hot water in these rooms was connected by electricity, and the hot water in their room caught on fire. a little fire, but nonetheless a moment of consternation. the dutch couple we met in puerto lopez. i believe that we were on the same bus going from montañita to puerto lopez and since anna, vincent and i were so loud on that bus and i guess we drew attention to ourselves when we argued the price down from $2.50 to $2 for the hour long bus-ride. you see, busses are supposed to cost a dollar per hour or thereabouts, so $2.50 was unacceptable. so, in broken spanish that was supposed to be argumentative and forceful, but sounded something like, 'price bad' 'i dont like it' 'you lie at us', we put up a stink and therefore became noticeable. the dutch couple therefore remembered us when we saw each other in the hostel we were both staying at and had grounds for starting conversation. later, when we knew that they went on the whale tour before we did, we asked what they thought of it and they didnt give a glowing report. they claimed to have been on something similar in thailand and were therefore jaded about hte whole thing. of course, the whale tour turned out to be the coolest thing ive done yet so i dont believe a word they say anymore. but htey were nice and they may have redeemed themselves later on the advice tip. we will see.
they were sitting on the floor in sahara smoking a hookah pipe and drinking tea. manu chao was playing in the background, as usual, and we joined them at their table. the slovenians were talking much about how on thier trip to turkey, the hookah pipes were bigger, and the dutch were talking much about how in amsterdam, the pipes are filled with something different. they knew each other because they had been together on a jungle tour and used their numbers as price bargaining leverage. then they went white water rafting together and also went on the jungle tour and thereby became friends. it just so happens that their trips started and will end on the exact same date so there is fate involved as well. we all talked and joked and agreed that there is too much starch in ecuadorian food (most of the time rice, potatoes, and plantains with any meal - in rare lucky cases, both potatoes and french fries with a meal), you have to sit in the front seat of a night bus in order to get any rest, and quito is more fun than we had expected.
the day previous, we had run into two dutch women who are traveling together. we met them in montañita, though they had been staying at the same hotel with us in vilcabamba and i recognized them because they were sitting at a table next to us one night while we were eating dinner and then playing cards. it was a non-descript night except that before long an older american man came over to their table, which was very much in earshot of our table, and began talking to them. at first, they were grilling him about how it was possible that george bush got elected again, so i was sour on the dutch girls immidiately, but then wound up feeling bad for them because not only did the guy go on to give a detailed account of the political system in the united states, but also went on to explain about the danger of plastic and generally the danger of anything edible and/or drinkable other than water filtered through a specific filtration system that will be available at his soon to be opened (somewhere in ecuador - though we were in vilcabamba which is known for having the most centarians of any village in ecuador and therefore the most people there giving reasons as to why that is the case) healthfood store, which of course should be visited. he was still talking after we had played a full game of rummy 500.
we were in puerto lopez with the dutch girls and they were going to leave before we did because they had heard bad things about the night busses about how there were frequent robberies and bandit attacks so they wanted instead to take the day bus. however, when we saw them in otavalo, they were strangely hapy to see us (the reasons why this was strange will not be discussed), and relayed a story that involved their bus having been stopped at a road block due to protesting banana farmers. the protest was going on for hours and they had gotten off the bus to walk around and stretch their legs when all of a sudden the road block was cleared and the bus left them there on the side of the road. they were both trying to tell the story at the same time so i can only remember bits and pieces of information about barbed wire fences, darkness, being alone on the side of the road, and various pickup trucks that eventually got them to quito. by the way, they had also relayed the same story to the dutch couple from sahara and when we were talking about it, they had an air of tragedy that i am certainly not going for. it is irony that i seek. irony.
besides, they had decided that they didnt like us by the time they gave us the bus advice. i think it had to do with the way we danced. it was strange. we met them at the roadside juicy rum place in montañita with the one man disco ball. we were the only ones sitting there. first we laughed and joked a lot about the plastic american guy and about how montañita was foggy and how the night bus ride from loja to guayaquil was not comfortable. then, when it was late enough we went to one of the two clubs that montañita has. then we went to the other where they have a fire burning in the middle and also hammocks on the dance floor. there we discovered that one of the dutch girls had spent a year taking salsa lessons. the other one hadnt. the problem is that neither i, nor anna, nor vincent had ever taken salsa lessons (ok, me and anna took one lesson once but it doesnt count because we still look like dinosaurs and rabbits). so, the more the night wore on and the more we drank and the more vincent and i craved hip-hop and began remeniscing about our never-gotten-off-the-ground rap group known as furiously retarded midgets, we began doing our signature dance known as the wiggly wangles and as time wore on from that phase, we began doing variations on the wiggly wangles that made anna embarrassed and, i believe, turned off the dutch girls to our company. on later days, they did not come over when they saw us eating at places or drinking except to tell us that night busses are dangerous. there is much more to this story, and there are others too...
in any event, since nothing terribly extrordinary has happened in the past few days - well, traveling is always extrordinary and great, as is life, but nothing particular has happened, so i will do my best to let you guys know of the tales and woes of other travelers:
the other night in otavalo, anna and i went out to a place we thought was cool. it is called sahara and is a place that sells falaffels and hummus and things like that, but since they really specialize in making homemade bread, they also sell pizza. however, since it is one of the only dishes that comes with a vegetable that isnt iceberg lettuce in all of ecuador (or so it seems), we liked to stick with the fallafel. very good. however, upon walking in, we ran into a slovenian and a dutch couple (two couples, not a slovenian/dutch mixture). the slovenians we stayed with in vilcabamba, though never spoke to. we recognized each other, though they recognized me first because ive taken to wearing, much like my skin, this italy soccer sweatchirt that i bought just moments after the world cup. sure im a front runner, but the story is that i was cold and needed something to wear and it was the only article of clothing in xl in cuenca. nonetheless, this sweatshirt has prompted many a traveler and ecuadorian to ask me if i am from italy. evidently, the slovenian guy was one of the many to ask me this question. being that slovenia is so close to italy, they are somewhat of futbol rivals, so the sweatshirt aroused some sort of passion that inspired memory in these folks. as for me, i remember this couple because they set our house on fire. our house was connected by 4 rooms, and the hot water in these rooms was connected by electricity, and the hot water in their room caught on fire. a little fire, but nonetheless a moment of consternation. the dutch couple we met in puerto lopez. i believe that we were on the same bus going from montañita to puerto lopez and since anna, vincent and i were so loud on that bus and i guess we drew attention to ourselves when we argued the price down from $2.50 to $2 for the hour long bus-ride. you see, busses are supposed to cost a dollar per hour or thereabouts, so $2.50 was unacceptable. so, in broken spanish that was supposed to be argumentative and forceful, but sounded something like, 'price bad' 'i dont like it' 'you lie at us', we put up a stink and therefore became noticeable. the dutch couple therefore remembered us when we saw each other in the hostel we were both staying at and had grounds for starting conversation. later, when we knew that they went on the whale tour before we did, we asked what they thought of it and they didnt give a glowing report. they claimed to have been on something similar in thailand and were therefore jaded about hte whole thing. of course, the whale tour turned out to be the coolest thing ive done yet so i dont believe a word they say anymore. but htey were nice and they may have redeemed themselves later on the advice tip. we will see.
they were sitting on the floor in sahara smoking a hookah pipe and drinking tea. manu chao was playing in the background, as usual, and we joined them at their table. the slovenians were talking much about how on thier trip to turkey, the hookah pipes were bigger, and the dutch were talking much about how in amsterdam, the pipes are filled with something different. they knew each other because they had been together on a jungle tour and used their numbers as price bargaining leverage. then they went white water rafting together and also went on the jungle tour and thereby became friends. it just so happens that their trips started and will end on the exact same date so there is fate involved as well. we all talked and joked and agreed that there is too much starch in ecuadorian food (most of the time rice, potatoes, and plantains with any meal - in rare lucky cases, both potatoes and french fries with a meal), you have to sit in the front seat of a night bus in order to get any rest, and quito is more fun than we had expected.
the day previous, we had run into two dutch women who are traveling together. we met them in montañita, though they had been staying at the same hotel with us in vilcabamba and i recognized them because they were sitting at a table next to us one night while we were eating dinner and then playing cards. it was a non-descript night except that before long an older american man came over to their table, which was very much in earshot of our table, and began talking to them. at first, they were grilling him about how it was possible that george bush got elected again, so i was sour on the dutch girls immidiately, but then wound up feeling bad for them because not only did the guy go on to give a detailed account of the political system in the united states, but also went on to explain about the danger of plastic and generally the danger of anything edible and/or drinkable other than water filtered through a specific filtration system that will be available at his soon to be opened (somewhere in ecuador - though we were in vilcabamba which is known for having the most centarians of any village in ecuador and therefore the most people there giving reasons as to why that is the case) healthfood store, which of course should be visited. he was still talking after we had played a full game of rummy 500.
we were in puerto lopez with the dutch girls and they were going to leave before we did because they had heard bad things about the night busses about how there were frequent robberies and bandit attacks so they wanted instead to take the day bus. however, when we saw them in otavalo, they were strangely hapy to see us (the reasons why this was strange will not be discussed), and relayed a story that involved their bus having been stopped at a road block due to protesting banana farmers. the protest was going on for hours and they had gotten off the bus to walk around and stretch their legs when all of a sudden the road block was cleared and the bus left them there on the side of the road. they were both trying to tell the story at the same time so i can only remember bits and pieces of information about barbed wire fences, darkness, being alone on the side of the road, and various pickup trucks that eventually got them to quito. by the way, they had also relayed the same story to the dutch couple from sahara and when we were talking about it, they had an air of tragedy that i am certainly not going for. it is irony that i seek. irony.
besides, they had decided that they didnt like us by the time they gave us the bus advice. i think it had to do with the way we danced. it was strange. we met them at the roadside juicy rum place in montañita with the one man disco ball. we were the only ones sitting there. first we laughed and joked a lot about the plastic american guy and about how montañita was foggy and how the night bus ride from loja to guayaquil was not comfortable. then, when it was late enough we went to one of the two clubs that montañita has. then we went to the other where they have a fire burning in the middle and also hammocks on the dance floor. there we discovered that one of the dutch girls had spent a year taking salsa lessons. the other one hadnt. the problem is that neither i, nor anna, nor vincent had ever taken salsa lessons (ok, me and anna took one lesson once but it doesnt count because we still look like dinosaurs and rabbits). so, the more the night wore on and the more we drank and the more vincent and i craved hip-hop and began remeniscing about our never-gotten-off-the-ground rap group known as furiously retarded midgets, we began doing our signature dance known as the wiggly wangles and as time wore on from that phase, we began doing variations on the wiggly wangles that made anna embarrassed and, i believe, turned off the dutch girls to our company. on later days, they did not come over when they saw us eating at places or drinking except to tell us that night busses are dangerous. there is much more to this story, and there are others too...
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
montanita vs puerto lopez
i just finished reading this book called collapse by jared diamond which attempts to explain the environmental factors that caused past civilizations to collapse. so, maybe its just on my mind, but ive been thinking about the last two towns ive been in in that context.
on the one hand, there is Montanita, a town on the coast that is like many latin american coastal towns. there are dusty streets except for the random paved one here and there. there is a vibrant doggy social life, with more stray dogs than people walking down the streets, and not much for people to do except fish and lie around in hammocks. however, there is some sort of wave phenomenon that takes place on the beach that attracts surfers to the area. with the surfers having found this spot, an industry around the surfers has also emerged. so, there are hotels - fancy ones that have leafy hut-like roofs and restaurants on their lower floors. all of these hotels are clumped together in the middle of town in a two block radius where all of the resulting tourist infrastructure has followed suit. so, when you walk down these two streets, you can eat a lot, drink a lot, buy beaded things from hippies, watch people twirl fire, and buy bootleg cd's. there is much bob marley blaring into the streets and many people walking back and forth. all of this industry for the surfers? you may ask. well, yes and no. not only do surfers hang out there, but so do other people such as myself who have been told that it is a nice place to hang out. which it is. my intuition as to how it because a place not only for surfers, however, is based on a few inferences:
1. surfing is a lifestyle and not just an activity. people who surf do so for more than one day at a time. so, within the transient population of travelers and surfers, there is already a context for people to be staying in montanita for more than a day.
2. surfers do not surf once. surfing is a committment. you have to own a surf board, practice a lot, keep yourself in shape and be willing to talk about surfing after you surf. so, with the activity of surfing, there is an inherant culture for the hotels and ensuing industry to serve.
3. surfers are generally good looking. therefore, where they go, others will follow. guys will come to montanita to pick up surfer girls and girls will come to montanita to pick up surfer guys. so, there needs to be industry that serves this need as well. hence all of the bars and meet market type activities.
om the other hand, there is Puerto Lopez. another sleepy fishing village about 1 hour (2 miles on ecuadorian twisty roads) up the road. puerto lopez has all of the identifiable elements of a fishing village. a doggy life that is absolutely thriving, etc. there is a beach, but no surf, yet puerto lopez is also a tourist destination. there is no confined tourist area, yet people do flock to puerto lopez. people flock to puerto lopez, yet not to meet other single attractive people. in fact, people come to puerto lopez to see the whales. in fact, the waters off of puerto lopez is where humpback whales come to mate during this time of year. we went to see them, and attractive and athletic just like the surfers in montanita, the whales danced and jumped and did backflips out of the water, presumably to impress potential mates. but with all the people here in puerto lopez to see the whales, howcome a similar tourist infrastructure has not emerged as in montanita? well, there are bars, but they are perpetually empty, and blast music such as the offspring (pretty fly for a hite guy, etc.) into the streets. there is no street food to speak of, whereas montanita had people selling oyster based ceviche in the street, tasty and cheap, the streets of puerto lopez are marred by felled streetlights and random holes large enough for a cow to fall through. there are plenty of hotels around town, but they are spread out throughout the entire town. there are people selling juice on teh side of the road, but whereas in montanita these people would put rum in their natural juices during the night (we had one favorite juice/rum guy who went through the trouble of flicking some colorful lights on and off in such a way that earned him the knickname of 'the human disco ball' you have to try the passion-fruit/banana drink, and the strawberry/apple one too!), in puerto lopez, thejuice stands do not double as bars, and are genrally run by 9-13 year old kids who dump pounds of sugar into every juice if you are not quick enough to tell them not to. there is a beach to swim in, but ive seen more pigs on the beach than people and one sign that the pigs rule the beach instead of the people is that one pig, as he was walking non-chalantly dropped a huge terd spaning the space of 10 steps. not to mention, we are mired in a devestating glum cloudy phase where we havent seen the sun in 6 days. not even 1 ray. maybe 1 ray. why has puerto lopez not put in the effort to become the hotspot that is montanita?
1. the main industry for most people in puerto lopez is fishing. many of the fish, no doubt, as sent to montanita for eating there. therefore, fishermen are getting paid enough.
2. the main tourist attraction of puerto lopez are the whales. everyone walking down the street is offering you a whale tour. seeing whales is an event, not a lifestyle. so, if you want to see the whales, puerto lopez is the place to do it, but then you move on. therefore, the whale companies get their money from the tourists who would only pay once for such a tour anyway. the hotels are perpetually full of people on their way north from montanita - even if people are only in for only one night at a time, a hotel can only be but so full. the same goes for the restaurants. they are perpetually full, but with different tourists each night.
3. there is a bus that leaves puerto lopez at 7 at night and at 7 in the morning to go to quito, and there is not much for a tourist to do between puerto lopez and quito. therefore the bars are the big losers. the 7 pm people are gone by bar o clock, and the 7 am people want to get a good night rest before their morning bus ride, and besides are probably too tired for a big night out after their whale tours and hiking through the isla de la plata looking at blue footed boobies (hilariously cute duck-like seagulls with sky blue feet and no fear of humans).
so, the people in town make their money off the tourists the best way they can, even without going through the extra effort of covering the holes, picking up the felled light poles, completing random pavement projects, or cleaning the beach of pig crap. the big losers are the bars, and people who commit to spending three nights in puerto lopez, such as me, anna and vincent!
on the one hand, there is Montanita, a town on the coast that is like many latin american coastal towns. there are dusty streets except for the random paved one here and there. there is a vibrant doggy social life, with more stray dogs than people walking down the streets, and not much for people to do except fish and lie around in hammocks. however, there is some sort of wave phenomenon that takes place on the beach that attracts surfers to the area. with the surfers having found this spot, an industry around the surfers has also emerged. so, there are hotels - fancy ones that have leafy hut-like roofs and restaurants on their lower floors. all of these hotels are clumped together in the middle of town in a two block radius where all of the resulting tourist infrastructure has followed suit. so, when you walk down these two streets, you can eat a lot, drink a lot, buy beaded things from hippies, watch people twirl fire, and buy bootleg cd's. there is much bob marley blaring into the streets and many people walking back and forth. all of this industry for the surfers? you may ask. well, yes and no. not only do surfers hang out there, but so do other people such as myself who have been told that it is a nice place to hang out. which it is. my intuition as to how it because a place not only for surfers, however, is based on a few inferences:
1. surfing is a lifestyle and not just an activity. people who surf do so for more than one day at a time. so, within the transient population of travelers and surfers, there is already a context for people to be staying in montanita for more than a day.
2. surfers do not surf once. surfing is a committment. you have to own a surf board, practice a lot, keep yourself in shape and be willing to talk about surfing after you surf. so, with the activity of surfing, there is an inherant culture for the hotels and ensuing industry to serve.
3. surfers are generally good looking. therefore, where they go, others will follow. guys will come to montanita to pick up surfer girls and girls will come to montanita to pick up surfer guys. so, there needs to be industry that serves this need as well. hence all of the bars and meet market type activities.
om the other hand, there is Puerto Lopez. another sleepy fishing village about 1 hour (2 miles on ecuadorian twisty roads) up the road. puerto lopez has all of the identifiable elements of a fishing village. a doggy life that is absolutely thriving, etc. there is a beach, but no surf, yet puerto lopez is also a tourist destination. there is no confined tourist area, yet people do flock to puerto lopez. people flock to puerto lopez, yet not to meet other single attractive people. in fact, people come to puerto lopez to see the whales. in fact, the waters off of puerto lopez is where humpback whales come to mate during this time of year. we went to see them, and attractive and athletic just like the surfers in montanita, the whales danced and jumped and did backflips out of the water, presumably to impress potential mates. but with all the people here in puerto lopez to see the whales, howcome a similar tourist infrastructure has not emerged as in montanita? well, there are bars, but they are perpetually empty, and blast music such as the offspring (pretty fly for a hite guy, etc.) into the streets. there is no street food to speak of, whereas montanita had people selling oyster based ceviche in the street, tasty and cheap, the streets of puerto lopez are marred by felled streetlights and random holes large enough for a cow to fall through. there are plenty of hotels around town, but they are spread out throughout the entire town. there are people selling juice on teh side of the road, but whereas in montanita these people would put rum in their natural juices during the night (we had one favorite juice/rum guy who went through the trouble of flicking some colorful lights on and off in such a way that earned him the knickname of 'the human disco ball' you have to try the passion-fruit/banana drink, and the strawberry/apple one too!), in puerto lopez, thejuice stands do not double as bars, and are genrally run by 9-13 year old kids who dump pounds of sugar into every juice if you are not quick enough to tell them not to. there is a beach to swim in, but ive seen more pigs on the beach than people and one sign that the pigs rule the beach instead of the people is that one pig, as he was walking non-chalantly dropped a huge terd spaning the space of 10 steps. not to mention, we are mired in a devestating glum cloudy phase where we havent seen the sun in 6 days. not even 1 ray. maybe 1 ray. why has puerto lopez not put in the effort to become the hotspot that is montanita?
1. the main industry for most people in puerto lopez is fishing. many of the fish, no doubt, as sent to montanita for eating there. therefore, fishermen are getting paid enough.
2. the main tourist attraction of puerto lopez are the whales. everyone walking down the street is offering you a whale tour. seeing whales is an event, not a lifestyle. so, if you want to see the whales, puerto lopez is the place to do it, but then you move on. therefore, the whale companies get their money from the tourists who would only pay once for such a tour anyway. the hotels are perpetually full of people on their way north from montanita - even if people are only in for only one night at a time, a hotel can only be but so full. the same goes for the restaurants. they are perpetually full, but with different tourists each night.
3. there is a bus that leaves puerto lopez at 7 at night and at 7 in the morning to go to quito, and there is not much for a tourist to do between puerto lopez and quito. therefore the bars are the big losers. the 7 pm people are gone by bar o clock, and the 7 am people want to get a good night rest before their morning bus ride, and besides are probably too tired for a big night out after their whale tours and hiking through the isla de la plata looking at blue footed boobies (hilariously cute duck-like seagulls with sky blue feet and no fear of humans).
so, the people in town make their money off the tourists the best way they can, even without going through the extra effort of covering the holes, picking up the felled light poles, completing random pavement projects, or cleaning the beach of pig crap. the big losers are the bars, and people who commit to spending three nights in puerto lopez, such as me, anna and vincent!
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