No, there are not any palaces in Quito. Last week I finally got my visa and the whole situation can only be described as Kafkaesque.
It took about two and a half months for me to receive the work visa. When we first talked with our lawyer she assured us that we only need a few documents and a little money and we wouldn't have any problems. However, that was not the case. After submitting all the required paperwork, the lawyer would call us up two or three times a week saying that we were missing one document or another. Of course, she had never asked for these documents in the first place.
When we met with the lawyers on one trip to Quito, one actually had the balls to say to me, "Things are not done here like they are in the States. You have to know people." To which I replied, "That's why I'm paying you, to know people." By the way, the company which claims to be a non-profit, is 1700 Migrante. I do not recommend that anyone ever use them.
I couldn't get my the visa last week when Carlos and I went to Quito for the sole purpose of receiving the visa. That was because the guy who had to sign my visa was not in and would not be in for two more days. Apparently, there is one single guy in the whole entire country who could sign my visa. And he doesn't have an underling who can do it for him when he's sick. So we had to return to Quito the following week. Fortunately, Carlos was already going there for a conference and I just tagged along. And we finally got the visa.
At the end of the procedure, the lawyer asked us for more money than we had agreed to pay, saying things like, "Well, for your case we had to do extra work." When I asked for specifics, as in, "How is my case different from the other cases? What exactly did you need to do for me that was atypical?" he would reply by saying, "Well, I was not the one doing the work, but the lawyer assured me that your case was special and he needed to do more than was normally necessary." Again I would say, "Can you give me an example?" to which he would respond, "Well, I don't know exactly, but your case was different." Arrrrgh.
Of course, the system in Ecuador is made so that you need a lawyer or an expediter or someone who knows people in the system to get things done. And everybody takes a few dollars here and there to help you out. There were only two people who were actually helpful. After I got my visa I needed to get a copy of it notarized. The notary was a very kind lady. Even nicer was was the gentleman at the Ministry of Work. I did not need to go to Quito for the whole visa process. However, after receiving the visa it was necessary to get a work ID, thus go to Quito for the sole purpose of having a (digital) photo taken. And this is only possible on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday. The gentleman there was so nice and helpful, Carlos and I had met him the previous week and Carlos explained that my Spanish was not the best and that I would be returning on my own and the guy explained the whole procedure very patiently and when I returned it took less than 10 minutes.
If anyone would like me to explain the process for getting a work visa, I cannot, I have no idea how I actually got the visa.
But I learned my lesson. Just get married. It's cheaper and easier.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Friday, March 06, 2009
Witness
On Tuesday evening Carlos and I went out for drinks in Quito with one of our classmates from IHE. She graduates in a few months and was here doing research, we hadn't seen her since last June. We were in Quito to get my passport, which I didn't get yet, but that's another story (to summarize, the one guy whose signature I needed for the visa to be valid wasn't in that day, maybe sick or something, so sorry, come back next week). So, our friend and her sister dropped us off at our apartment (Carlos's parents have an apartment in Quito, they use it a few times a year but he and his brothers and sisters stay there when they have work). They turned the car around and we waited on the steps to wave goodbye. When they had turned around they rolled down their window and told us that it looked like some guys were stealing a car. We looked over, and yeah, they were right, so we went into our building to tell the guard as our friends drove away.
The guard came outside, stared at the thieves for a minute or so, then told us, no, it doesn't look like a robbery, they probably just lost the keys to their car. So we were chatting on the steps when the car pulled up and stopped in front of us, pulled out a gun, cocked it, aimed it at us, and said the Spanish equivalent of, "You motherfuckers better run before I putta cap in yo ass!" Or something like that. So we ran into the building. We thought we were safe there but one guy followed us so we ran up the stairs and made it safely into the apartment. And they sped off.
No, we didn't call the police. I kept asking to, but Carlos and his brother (who had gotten to the apartment about five minutes before us) said it was useless. The police won't do anything, we didn't see the guys or even the color of the car (it was night, like 8PM, it happened fast). I understand this, but kept on saying that we still should file a report anyway so that the poor guy whose car was stolen would have some idea in the morning why his car was gone and some proof for his insurance. But no, we didn't call. About 5 minutes after the incident Carlos went outside to chat with the guard again and two other guards on the street, who are only armed with sticks and whistles, both of whom saw nothing.
I was scared when it happened, but a few moments later I was sad, I just felt so helpless. I witnessed a crime and did nothing. I couldn't do my moral duty, no one could, the system doesn't allow it. The criminals win (by the way I'm in the middle of reading Atlas Shrugged).
So that's the story. Not quite as bad as the attempted kidnapping in India, but close.
The guard came outside, stared at the thieves for a minute or so, then told us, no, it doesn't look like a robbery, they probably just lost the keys to their car. So we were chatting on the steps when the car pulled up and stopped in front of us, pulled out a gun, cocked it, aimed it at us, and said the Spanish equivalent of, "You motherfuckers better run before I putta cap in yo ass!" Or something like that. So we ran into the building. We thought we were safe there but one guy followed us so we ran up the stairs and made it safely into the apartment. And they sped off.
No, we didn't call the police. I kept asking to, but Carlos and his brother (who had gotten to the apartment about five minutes before us) said it was useless. The police won't do anything, we didn't see the guys or even the color of the car (it was night, like 8PM, it happened fast). I understand this, but kept on saying that we still should file a report anyway so that the poor guy whose car was stolen would have some idea in the morning why his car was gone and some proof for his insurance. But no, we didn't call. About 5 minutes after the incident Carlos went outside to chat with the guard again and two other guards on the street, who are only armed with sticks and whistles, both of whom saw nothing.
I was scared when it happened, but a few moments later I was sad, I just felt so helpless. I witnessed a crime and did nothing. I couldn't do my moral duty, no one could, the system doesn't allow it. The criminals win (by the way I'm in the middle of reading Atlas Shrugged).
So that's the story. Not quite as bad as the attempted kidnapping in India, but close.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
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?
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?
Friday, February 20, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
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.
And it smells great.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
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 :)
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 :)
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