Carnival in Ecuador

Carnival in Ecuador strangely reminded me of beach week at Duke. Back in collage, after the spring exams and before graduation, we would spend four or five days in Myrtle Beach, SC (actually North Myrtle Beach, but that doesn't matter too much). Those days were filled with dancing (and drinking) all night, sleeping all morning, and spending the afternoons at the beach getting sunburnt.

This past weekend was like that, sort of. Carlos and I spent from Saturday until Tuesday in the country with his parents at their weekend house. Almost all his siblings and their families were there as well. So it was basically one big party. We spent our days eating and drinking (including some shots of tequila with my future mother-in-law), playing cards, riding bikes, playing volleyball, singing karaoke, dancing, and of course, the main event of carnival, which is throwing water on one another.

Fortunately, there was sun everyday so I was never really cold. Unfortunately, the water kind of washed off my sunscreen, so my back and legs are totally burnt. Almost every afternoon the water pistols came out, as well as the water balloons, pitchers, and even the hose. The only people that were safe were Carlos's parents. No one wanted to get Mami wet.

Yesterday was the most brutal, when a few of my future brother-in-laws, thought that flour, banana, coffee grounds, vanilla extract, and eggs were all legitimate substances to smash into my hair and face. Carlos has already thanked me for taking his place, he was able to spend yesterday afternoon relatively dry and clean, while I ended up smelling like cake.

I did get a bit of revenge, for an esential ingredient of Ecuadorian cooking is achiote, a red spice that can be bought dissilved in oil. I left a nice handprint in achiote on the windsheild of one of my future brother-in-law's brand new, just cleaned car. It took him about half an hour to clean it off. But it took me about four hours this morning to do laundry from the weekend, including laundering some clothes twice, just to remove the vanilla.

Next year in Brazil?

Fight Club?

Our house (Carlos's parents house) in Cuenca overlooks a park. The park isn't very big, about the size of three standard lots. Right now, there are about 40 skinny teenage boys hanging out there. I think there is a fight. Some beautiful yellow flowering trees block my view, but I saw about three punches thrown. And one kick. Then the smaller guy running away. I've heard lots of cheers and groans (the boys are loud and windows thin). There are about half a dozen girls there too, but they are watching from across the street.

I asked Carlos's parents about the boys in the park, they were downstairs and hadn't heard them. So we tried to view it from the living room, still too many trees. We couldn't even see if we stood on the couch. So we went to the balcony of their room. Papi couldn't care less, but Mami seemed to want to watch the fight. Still, too many trees. So back to cooking for Carnival.

Now they are dissipating. It's over.

Lucky Day

I found an article in The Economist that quotes Ira Glass. It doesn't get much better than that.

Cooking for Carnival

Apparently we will spend all of Saturday making breads, but that's not what I want to write about now. There is the most amazing savory smell coming from the kitchen right now. I went downstairs to investigate. It turns out that my future mother-in-law is rendering lard (I think that's the right term, I may need to look it up). At lunch I saw some cubes of flesh on the stove, which looked like fish actually, so I didn't ask any questions. Now, about an hour and a half later, I realize that that was not fish, it was chunks of pork fat. And now they are melting into pure lard.

And it smells great.

Baños

To recover from our days in the field, Carlos and I decided to go to Baños on Sunday. There are actually two Baños in Ecuador (or maybe more, but I only know of two), one is just a small town on the outskirts of Cuenca (which is where we went), the other is near Riobamba, sort of the gateway to the jungle. Both have natural hot springs, aka, thermal baths, thus the name "Baños".

So, in the Baños near Cuenca there are a few baths to visit, but when had gotten free passes to Pierdra de Agua, a spa so new that they haven't even finished the construction. But we didn't know that until we got there. The passes were to expire in two weeks, so we wanted to use them before it was too late.

The spa was beautiful, mainly constructed with a reddish volcanic stone. The decor was very modern, but chic as well. Not typical Ecuadorian. We were greeted when we arrived and given a tour. I was surprised by all the attention paid to us, which, again, is not very typical here in Ecuador, but I think it was because we were the only people there. I mean there were a few others walking around, but we were the only ones actually using the facilities. We were able to use the Turkish baths and the pools, because those were the only things that were open. Actually, the Turkish baths were not quite working when we arrived, but they fixed them for us.

They told us that in about 3-5 months the rest will be completed, underground pools, massages, steam boxes, outdoor showers, etc. I think that we'll be visiting again when they have completed the place.

Welcome to the Jungle

Yesterday Carlos and I returned from four days of camping. It was for work. Carlos has a job assessing a protected area near Cuenca and advising the municipality on what to do with it. About 20 to 30 years ago it was used as a scientific station but has been sort of abandoned, which is good for the forest because we have been able to observe natural regeneration. Three other friends were there with us, all biologists. They mainly counted birds and trapped animals.

Anyway, there is a small building there where we were able to stay, rather than in tents. But the building didn't have too much to offer. There is water, but no electricity. The water is piped in from a waterfall nearby (I boiled it to drink, the guys did not, Carlos thought I was being paranoid, but I responded by telling him that I was the one with the degree in "don't drink the water"). They have a parallel line that used to run a hydroelectric generator, but it's not in use anymore. There is an old stove in there, but we were not provided with gas, so we cooked over a camping stove. I know this because my duties on this trip was "drafter" (there aren't any records of the building we stayed in, so I made some), "engineer" (analysis of potable and waste water systems), and "chef."

But besides that work, I went hiking with the boys as well. The longest day was 8 hours, my shortest was 3 hours (I think Carlos' shortest was about 6 hours). And I should state that we weren't actually in the jungle. We were in an Andean forest. But it was like the jungle, just a bit cooler, higher, and without snakes. There was knee deep mud (well, upper calf deep, coming just to the top of our galoshes, which, by the way, are terrible to hike in since the soles are thin and slippery, but do a great job of keeping feet dry) and we were wielding machetes.

Well, only one machete. And I got to wield it a few times. It's really quite hard to hack your way through the forest. I was not very good at it. There were trails, but they were a bit overgrown. Can you see the trail?


Yeah, I couldn't either, but it's there. Even though it was tough, I had a great time.

Consulting

Since I still don't have my visa, I have been assisting Carlos in his job (n.b. - this is not work, I am not getting paid, thus am not working illegally). He and some friends from university have restarted their company, Biota, and Carlos already has three or four contracts.

He's a biologist and does Environmental Impact Assessments. The field work makes it one of the best jobs ever. We go on hikes. That's the job. I mean, on those hikes he counts trees and flowers while I take photos when he asks (and also when he doesn't). Or we go down by the river and collect water samples. On Monday we went to Mazan, a protected area that the municipality needs data for so they can decide what to do with it.

Unfortunately, all the hiking has shown me that I am still quite out of shape. I mean, we typically hike for three or four hours, with only about a 200m change in grade, but through mud and squishy soils. Though going uphill is tough, for me the hardest part is when we go off trail and have to hold on to the trees for support. It's fun, but I'm still afraid to touch things. But when I don't touch things, I fall. Even when I am careful about what I touch I still end up with splinters and cuts on my hands.

My package arrived safely yesterday. The Economist is doing fine.

The Economist: The $100 issue

When my parents visited in December, they brought me lots of wonderful gifts from home. Basically, everyday items that I could not find here, like pine nuts and vanilla extract. And The Economist - my favorite magazine. It is not published in Ecuador because the guy who owns the rights has chosen not to publish it, probably because he couldn't make money off of it. I'm sure that I would be one of maybe 13 readers in this country of 13 million.

Unfortunately, the special double winter issue, which is the best of the best, was not available when my parents were coming here, so they shipped it to me when they returned to the states, along with a book, a sweater, some contact lenses, Cheez-Its. All simple stuff. The FedEx invoice stated the value of all items to be $25 (even though they are probably worth a little more). I don't know how much the shipping itself cost, but lets assume another $30, or more like $40 when you include the labor done my my parents to acquire and pack all the items. That's $65 already...

The package was shipped three weeks ago. It was supposed to arrive two weeks ago. After repeated calling, we finally found out where the package was. As of yesterday it was in Cuenca, but to get it into my possession I need to pay another $35! This is how it breaks down...customs is about $20. I mean, I have to pay $20 for customs to go through my box, try on my sweater, and probably eat the Cheez-Its. Apparently the government does not pay for this service, but the people using it do. Of that $20, $15 is for "management," $2 is for "storage" and $3 for "other." Then that $20 is taxed. So I get to pay about $23 for the privilege of customs keeping my stuff in a warehouse for two weeks.

Then there is the other bill, $12 in taxes. I need to pay $12 in import taxes on items that are worth $25. That's about 50%! And then, of course, I have to pay taxes on the taxes (well, I guess it's taxes on the tariff, but that's really the same).

So, in total, one issue of The Economist has now cost $100.

I hope that it's good :)