TIME TO WASTE

It was 6am on a Monday- the day we like to sleep in after getting up so early on the weekends. We were awakened out of half-sleep every ten seconds by "SLAM!... WHACK!...SLAM!...SCRUB, SCRUB." Our landlord was right beneath our open window washing clothes by hand despite the fact she has a real washing machine. She whacked each item against the cement slab, to get extra water out I presume. Each whack was deafening against the tranquility of our slumber. Joe and I wanted to whack her a couple of times. By the time she was done, the chicken clatter outside was too loud to get back to sleep anyway. Joe and I kept peeking our eyes at each other angrily under the sheets. It's not a dream. We still live here in Tena, Ecuador and there's no escaping it. 


By 8am, the phone was ringing. It was a friend who couldn't get her speakers to work on Skype. She offered Joe and I coffee and cake in exchange for fixing it. It was an offer too good to refuse, so we went over to her house after eating cold left-over quiche from the afternoon before. And the day before that. Now that I've learned how to make my own crust, there's no shortage of quiches at my house since the rest of the ingredients are super cheap. We also made coffee to fully wake us up from the "WHACK!" alarm-clock. We only had enough milk for one cup of coffee, so Joe and I looked angrily at each other again. I added water to the milk and boiled it in the small kettle. When it was hot enough I added some powdered milk I keep on hand for emergencies such as these. Now we had enough milk mixture for two cups of coffee. It was good, but a little lumpy at the bottom. 


After fixing our friend's computer we headed home. Joe had a Bible study to prepare for and I was going to blog. Carlie had planned to watch a movie. After all, Mondays are good for napping and wasting time. But after chatting with my friend/neighbor for a bit on Skype I thought I'd take her over some aspirin for her son who was home sick. That ended up being a nice trade too, because in return she made us sandwiches for lunch. 


After getting back from her house I thought maybe I could find a little time to waste. After all, it was humid and sticky outside and I was getting sleepy. A nice game of Angry Birds on my phone would be perfect. But upon arrival, Joe was hungry and insisted I figure out a meal plan. He was wanting something with noodles, but that would entail me walking 15 minutes in the heat and drizzling rain to the local market, the thought of which repulsed me. 
"What about quiche?"
"No."
So since we had rice, (also good to have on hand for emergencies and picky eaters), I mixed it with a chopped veggie mix that I sauteed and two cans of tuna. Angry Birds would have to wait. Everyone devoured it and was working on seconds when I sat down to relax. But then Joe reminded me it was Monday, the night we play soccer with friends at a rented field. We changed into our League shirts, walked down the street to pick up Joe's Bible study kids, and then walked 15 minutes to the field. Usually we have a big group, but tonight no one ever showed up. It was just us. Joe and I kicked the ball around a bit with the kids, but it wasn't much fun for me. I have a muscle injury in my left thigh which prevents me from running or kicking or having any fun regarding soccer or running away from zombies that might chase me. So if my goal was to waste time today, I accomplished it at the soccer field.

ALMOST FAMOUS

I've seen lots of different reality shows where a panel of judges decide the fate of a stage full of hopefuls. The judges are usually famous or at least well-known faces in the spotlight. This morning in Tena, Ecuador, Joe and I were those judges. I'm not sure if that reflects how well known we are here, but it was pretty cool. And the fact that we were judging an eighth grade spelling bee doesn't make it any less cooler.


We were at National High School by 9am this morning sitting at a table with bottles of water in front of us, just like real TV judges. The kids would be spelling in English words like boat, milk, shorts, apple. There were about twenty contestants in clean uniform mouthing the words as we pronounced it to them. Some spelled the words quickly as if they had gotten the word list the night before. Others had us repeat the words several times over and still had no clue what we were saying, even after putting the word in a sentence. Maybe it would have helped if they understood the sentence. 


Carlie sat behind us and I could feel that she was shocked that such easy words were being given to eighth graders. I knew she wanted to get up on the stage and spell all of those stupid words backwards. A confident smiley girl ended up winning and I didn't get to see her receive her prize, because like a true TV reality star judge, I had to run out and take an important phone call on my phone. It was the internet company calling me. They weren't going to install our internet since we weren't home.

SAD AND HAPPY

This week has been by far one of the saddest weeks of my life. This week we lost little Lexi, an  orphan that had been living with us not quite two months. She blew out of our reach just as quickly as she blew in; like a dandy-lion seed in the wind. Her family hired a lawyer and a judgement was made to remove Lexi from our home and return her to the aunt. One moment we were eating hamburgers together as a family and watching her play at the park; the next morning her clothes and toys were in trash bags and she was whispering "ciao" to sleeping Carlie. I only pray that she remembers us and can one day enjoy a life filled with love, hugs and kisses- even if it's not with us.


One a happier note, after half of a year of literally begging, we finally got real wi-fi internet installed in our apartment. I can now type this whole blog entry without having to run down to the corner store and paying $20 for extra minutes on our pre-pay modem. 

COLOMBIA: PART II

Already comes the end of our short jaunt to Colombia. We leave Nelson and Ruby’s for Quito tomorrow at 6am. In many ways I like it a lot better than Ecuador. For one, the food is way better. Yesterday Ruby took us to a large cafeteria where there were rows and rows of desserts, breads, cakes and cookies behind glass counters. I got tres leches and real Colombian coffee. Ruby made us beef over rice and veggies for lunch yesterday and the beef was much more tender than the skinny cows from Ecuador. I also enjoyed the arepas for breakfast-- corn pancakes quickly fried in a bit of butter served with cheese and scrambled eggs. What a treat!

I also like the people better here. They are much kinder to strangers, whereas Ecuadorians are only that nice after they get to know you a bit. The people in service jobs really go out of their way to make the customers happy, even thanking the customer profusely for letting them serve you. I told one waitress ”gracias” after she was done serving us. Then she basically said, in rough translation, “no, thank you, it was a pleasure to serve you.” That was such a nice thing for her to say, I said “gracias” again. Then she said “gracias” again. We could have been there all day exchanging thank-yous. Anyway, the people of Colombia are truly outstanding, albeit noisy. If it weren’t for the saving grace of my earplugs, I would have had to endure the karaoke party that was going on next door until 4am this morning. Each night around 11, the neighbors turn on loud music and then all the dogs start barking. Colombians love dancing and music even more than Ecuadorians. Who thought that was even humanly possible?

 The last thing I like better about Colombia is the landscape and ambiance. We drove through areas today that could have just as easily been parts of Europe complete with narrow streets filled with horse-drawn carts. In fact, we toured a village today about 35 minutes outside of Pasto that looked just like a village I have been to in Holland. The enchanting wooden houses with brightly colored shutters on the edge of a serene lake was something out of a story-book.

All in all we have had a wonderful visit here in Colombia, but there were two highlights in particular that I would like to recount. One was visiting the village at the famous Encanto Lake this morning and having panela tea by a pot of hot coals that a young boy brought to our table to warm our hands. The second highlight was having family worship night with Nelson, Ruby and another sister they invited over. It was even better since we had popcorn and toasted ham and cheese sandwiches. First we practiced singing the songs for the service meeting and then we went over the questions for the oral review. It was hilarious because we brought our computer and accessed the Watchtower CD rom to help us find the answers. But our CD rom is in English, so Joe and I took turns translating it to the group in Spanish. Imagine how it was, with our broken Spanish, trying to explain the deep aspects of Jeremiah and other things that are just as hard to explain in our own language. After we’d translate, Joe and I would ask them if they understood us. They sat there staring at us as if we had three heads. “Mas o menos,” (more or less) they answered and then made up their own version of our explanation.

We live about 15 hours away from dear Nelson and Ruby here in Pasto, Colombia, which is in the shadow of an active volcano. Who knows if we’ll ever make the long trip up here again to see them.  It might be in the paradise before we meet again. But we’ll never forget them for the love and Colombian hospitality they showed to us over the past two days and three nights. Tomorrow we start the long journey back to the steamy jungle where there is nothing to see, nothing to do, and nothing good to eat…and yet I miss it. “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”

COLOMBIA!

Just a few weeks ago we found out that we could add three more months to our tourist visas by traveling to another country and then reentering after the expiration date that’s stamped in our passports: May 1^{st, 2012}. We also had the option of staying in Tena and just paying a lawyer $1,000 and having him do all the paperwork. We chose to do a border run. After much debate over Peru vs. Colombia, Colombia won out due to time restraints. Peru would take us almost a whole week’s travel time just to get to the border. If we went to Colombia we could be there and back within one week’s time.

We heard an elder in our hall might be traveling to Quito, Ecuador’s capital, where we could catch a taxi and bus onward to Colombia. Quito is almost a five hour bus ride from Tena, and any chance we could take to hitch a ride in a car would lesson ride time by at least an hour. We wanted to travel on Friday, but Gary was supposedly going up on Thursday.

“Well, I’m not really sure if I’m going tomorrow,” Gary said when we called him the night before. It was all a last-minute thing, since the whole reason he was going up was to visit a brother in the hospital. “I’ll let you know,” Gary said non-challantly. I wasn’t feeling well and went to bed. I figured if he didn’t know by 9pm if he was going or not to Quito the answer was no. I was wrong. He called the next morning around 6am. “Be ready in an hour.” In one hour we packed all our stuff for our week-long trip, all Lexi’s things for her stay with Tim & Monica, and the dogs’ stuff for their stay at Jessamyn & Hugo’s. We even had time left over to make egg sandwiches and coffee. Gary came and picked us up in his jade green Ford SUV and we were off. A few hours later we were in Quito with all our suitcases and were told by the owner of the hotel that it was full. No vacancies, even though we had just spoken with her hours before and reserved a room for three.  There we were, dumbfounded and hotel-less in Quito. She didn’t even offer an apology. Fortunately we had a plan B hotel mapped out, so we lugged our stuff by foot a few long city blocks to the other hotel. We were welcomed by Miguel who has hosted us at Hotel Andino at least four or five times now. Yet again it was a lovely stay, although he was having trouble with his gas lines and I had to take a tepid shower in the cold city of Quito. I never thought I’d actually miss the heat of Tena, but Quito feels downright freezing when you’re not used to it.

The next day, Friday, Miguel called Taxi Lagos for us. For just $8.50 a person they drove us 2 hours north to Otavalo, the town we lived in during 2007. We had planned to stay two nights with our friends Josh and Rachel Fettes from Wisconsin, who have lived in Ecuador for about six years. When we called and made arrangements to stay with them, they were glad to have us come, but informed us they would be leaving on Saturday for the beach and we could have their apartment to ourselves for as long as we wanted. The first day we spent hanging out with them, the second day we spent hanging out with their wi-fi, Direct TV, and all the food in their fridge they told us to eat or it would spoil.

Today, Sunday, was one of the longest days in my life. The events that follow are all thanks to the clear and concise directions that my friend Andrea in Cuenca emailed me and I printed out. Our final destination would be at her in-law’s house in Pasto, Colombia. I have never met her in-laws, nor have I met Andrea face-to-face. I work with her and she and her family are all Witnesses. That’s all you need in this organization. Now back to the road trip:

We cleaned Josh and Rachel’s apartment, ate breakfast, packed up and were at the Otavalo bus terminal by 10am. In hindsight, we should have left Otavalo by 7am. From Otavalo, we took a 35 minute bus ride to Ibarra- a much larger city where we could make the connection we needed to Tulcan, the last city on the Ecuadorian border before reaching Colombia. When we arrived, we had just missed the bus to Tulcan. The next one wouldn’t arrive until an hour and a half later. So we killed time by eating lunch at the food court (nasty) and window shopping inside the terminal (boring). Finally we boarded the bus to Tulcan. The driver was a fast one and I thought he might make the three hour drive in thirty minutes. He was zip-zooming around all the little towns past Ibarra and further north, climbing altitudes I’ve never been to before. At one point there was nothing but steep drop-offs on one side of us and you could see all of the Imbabura province. It was beautiful, but scary all at once. After we ascended to an altitude even higher than Quito’s, the bus came to a crawl. For the next 20 miles, we were behind bike-riders who decided to take up both lanes of highway. We couldn’t go around them. Our bus driver honked and cussed the entire time. After we finally got around them, our bus driver zipped and zoomed again to make up for lost time. We made it safely to Tulcan in just under three hours.

From the Tulcan bus terminal we took a taxi to Parque Ayora. Here we met up with shady looking “cambistas” or money changers. There were about 20 of them, all holding wads of American dollars and Colombian pesos in their grubby hands. Here we exchanged $75 USD for like 5 trillion pesos. A pack of gum in pesos is like a million. Weird. From there we took a taxi to the Colombian border. We walked into the Ecuador immigration building and got our exit stamp within five minutes. Then we had to walk across a short bridge under a sign that said “Bienvenidos a Colombia.” We walked into the Colombian immigration building and got an entry stamp. Too easy, I thought.

In the immigration parking lot we hopped into a mini-van, or “collectivo” full of other passengers. It would be a seven minute ride into the first Colombian town called Ipiales. I wasn’t so sure we’d make it, as the back right tire on the van was so wobbly I think it was rigged together with a safety pin and duct tape. After one minute of driving, we ran out of gas. The driver simply got out, walked to a friend’s house, and came back with an old paint can filled with gas. We were on the road again.

Minutes after this circus act, we arrived at the Ipiales bus terminal where we had to buy tickets for Pasto. The tickets were like a billion pesos, or $13USD. Our mode of travel this time was another collectivo but a nicer, newer, red one. It was more like a mini-bus and sat 20. The hour and a half drive to Pasto was a gorgeous one-from what I could see. Half of the windows were painted red for a sun-shade and the bottom half was tinted. I guess they have other routes that go to the sun because the passengers weren’t allowed to see much. But from what I could see, we were driving along a gorge with a river below. The drop below our little red tour bus cannot be described in meters or feet that you can comprehend. Basically it was like we were teetering on the ledge of the Grand Canyon; that’s how high up we were. The views through the red and tinted windows were amazing- it almost looked like we were in the French Alps, but I was just ready to get off of the bus, especially since now it was dark and had begun to drizzle. I was relieved when we finally saw the Pasto city lights in front of us. However, my joy turned sour very quickly as we got trapped in traffic due to road work and an accident. After nine hours of road travel by several modes of transportation, we finally made it to the Pasto bus terminal.

At the bus terminal I called Brother Nelson and his wife Ruby. Nelson is a taxi driver and told us he would pick us up in twenty minutes at the main entrance. Twenty minutes turned into forty. Because it was dark he had trouble finding us. Waiting outside in a cold drizzle is no fun. Waiting outside in a cold drizzle at night in Colombia after nine hours of travel waiting for someone you’ve never met before to come pick you up is pretty awful. Imagine our relief and delight when Nelson and Ruby finally found us and gave us big bear hugs. We were finally about to get into their taxi and go to a warm awaiting bed, but not before a bum gave us all a big long story about how he needed money to get back home. Ruby kindly said no, and we were on the road again.

Ruby and Nelson live in a three story home with a one-car garage. Funny thing is, when you open the garage and park the car, you realize the car is basically in the living room. The hood almost touches the back of the couch. Strange, but after the day we had he could have parked the car on the dining table and we would not have cared. We collapsed in sheer exhaustion on the couch while Ruby made us a small dinner: rice mixed with veggies and tuna with fried plantain. We devoured it like it was never on the plate at all. Then she fixed us lemon and panela tea (a type of sugar) and we all sat around and got to know each other a bit. Afterwards, they led us up to the third floor and unlocked the door to our own private mini- apartment. It has all that we need besides a kitchen. After putting our stuff down, they led us up yet another flight of stairs, a fourth level, to a terrace with a nighttime view that took our breath away. We could see all of Pasto by the twinkling lights. Nelson pointed in the direction of Bogota. Then he pointed in the direction of “la selva” (the jungle) “where I will turn and wave to my new friends there in Ecuador.” (in reference to Joe and I)

Being more than tired, we’re off to sleep now. Nelson will be taxi-driving people around tomorrow while Ruby has promised to show us a bit around Pasto. I’m looking forward to eating some authentic Colombian food. I’m not looking forward to the drive back home to Tena, Ecuador.