Jungle Carnival - Day 1: Laws of the Modern Jungle

And now, the 1 week Amazon epic. With a couple of friends I journeyed east of Quito into the "oriental", starting with Tena, the capital of Napo province.

As is classic with epic journeys of old we started at the crack of dawn, in fact in that darkest hour just before dawn. We scrambled into the taxi bound for the station in pitch black. The bus tickets to Tena, which my German friends, Ushi & Marlein bought were for a 6.10am departure!! Despite our vigilance with the early start, the Quito bus station was was congested and it took us a while to leave the taxi. The "hijo de p**a" driver charged us an extortionate $5 for a journey that is normally worth $3. (Our host family normally book trustworthy "co-operativos" or taxi companies who charge fair but somebody provided me with a compelling theory that other co-operativos listen in on radio calls and steal business!).

Spider monkey in a tree near Liana Lodge

My Argentinian bus station experience reminded me about the unpredictability of bus platforms and timings. Amidst the confusion of finding the damn bus I realised that I needed a leak ( because I chugged down papaya, yogurt and coffee an hour before....easily 1 litre worth of water!). I rushed back, 1 litre lighter, and brandishing a packet of crackers to cure the journey munchies, to find that the ladies weren't at the platform. I then saw Ushi coming to meet me and directing me to the bus that was dangerously parked along the exit road. Marlien was already inside and thus began 2o minutes of confusion, paranoia and disbelief.




On the way to Liana Lodge on the River Arajuno


Some dude was blocking the way into the bus talking incomprehensibly to Ushi. He then turned to me and asked me if I spoke Spanish (no idea why....he was asking me in Spanish....it was too early for sarcasm). On my response, yes, he let us in. Inside we met a distraught Marlien. She announced that her bag had gone missing! It seemed absurd considering that she had just got in. As the story goes, someone had helped her put it on the overhead rack but some others pushed in, separating her from the bag. A couple of minutes after she saw that the bag was not on the rack anymore, I must have been talking to blabbermouth at the bus entrance. I tried to raise the alarm with the bus driver but he was unsympathetic. In fact he started driving the bus, and the conductor was equally apathetic though he promised to check the underside storage to see if the bag had been shifted there. You see, we were still at the stage of denial having searched the bus up and down! The bag wasn't underneath and the making of the cunning theft job became more and more apparent to me. Blabbermouth, aka "Ladron #1" (ladron = thief), was buying time as his no doubt lovely assistant, Ladron #2, made a run for it with the loot. This prevented Marlien from alerting us on the outside and perhaps apprehending Ladron #2 and, who knows, possibly a Ladron #3. There was no time for any Sherlock Holmes sh*t, but I had initially suspected that the driver and conductor must have been in on the job because they wouldn't have otherwise let ticketless people in ( and for that matter let them block the entrance!) and they usually have a passenger manifest. In the end I conceded that they just are plain indifferent and don't care about the image of their bus company. Their heartless behaviour seemed to show, in my mind, that this was a routine operation on gullible passengers, without much commitment by the authorities to protect passengers, and that if a "gringeño" (slang for european/north american foreigner plus a couple of aussies and kiwis in the mix) is mugged then, hey, its a victory for the poor (just an inconvenience for the gringeño) in this vicious capitalist cycle.




"Puerto" Rio Barantilla and the river island


Marlein, obviously shocked, calmed down after reassurances and suggestions from us. It's amazing how, after mental stock checking ones stolen stuff, one realises how worthless material goods really are in the bigger scheme of things. The only thing she needed to do was to cancel her bank card using Ushi's phone. So the adventure into the "selva" (jungle) had truly began! Quito was foggy and chilly as we left but the lack of cloud the night before promised a shift in our weather fortune. The road to Tena is very interesting. The bus had to climb further up the Andes (up to 4800m!!) past the snowy Mt. Antisan (standing at about 5700m) before descending into the steamy, tree congested river valleys that feed the great Amazon river through Ecuador and Peru then Brazil. From ear popping, desert dry, cactus ridden highlands to the moist, leafy valley bottom, we wound round hills and passes in 6 hours. All manner of foods and snacks were sold on the bus by hop-on hop-off vendors including one afro-Ecuadorian dude who instantly started talking to me (he was impressed that I came so far, as a tourist, and I equally joked with him - what the hell are you doing in this bug infested hell hole, my brother??).




A lodge hidden away in the vegetation around River Arajuno


For some 1 or 2 hours my now famous bladder was in agony until a routine checkpoint allowed me to rush to the loo! Change of conditions, lack of sleep and crowding made it hard to catch up on my 3hours of sleep last night. I stripped down my layers and I was on t-shirt mode when got to Tena.




Lush and green....


The Tena bus station was a mess of a place. In fact the main street looked like a past gold rush town with all manner of buildings at different stages of construction and already in use. A quick background: Tena sprouted after a boom in the minerals, petroleum and logging businesses many decades ago. We just had enough time to get Marlein some new clothes and catch a bus to Puerto Rio Barantilla within 45 minutes. I have no idea what happened when I bought the ticket that was good for 3 people. I had just one seat reserved and ended up standing for most of the journey! Even when I did sit down (after a few passengers jumped off), my eyes were tired, the sweeping view of endless forest made me drowsy and they were playing an awful teen movie, Nancy Drew. The carnival was starting so the fun part of the journey was seeing people getting pelted with water. Actually it was a relief as it was pretty hot in the bus (I was "annihilated" by super-soaker water jet fire on the way back to Tena when I foolishly left the door - I was near the entrance - wide open near a village).




Our humble abode at Liana....


We were dropped off at our "destination" and we had to find the "Port" Rio Barantilla where the lodge boat transport would "pick us up". We had told the lodge we would be there by 4pm but we were 1 and a half hours early. We reached the bank of the River Arajuno, which feeds the River Napo, one of the main tributaries of the Amazon river basin. A little Quechua girl with small surf board greeted us at the bank and continued into the forest. Caramba! It was modest port indeed! We chilled at the bank observing some people in a dug-out canoe transporting plantain. Also, on a river island we saw some girls washing clothes and it was interesting seeing them thumping fabric on some smooth rocks. I tried to take a photo but they were playfully and shyly looking away.




The bank of the River Aranjuno: Plantain transport


Our boat arrived early and down river we went towards Liana ("liana" means vine) Lodge. Liana Lodge turned out to be Germania Zentrum. Most of the guests booked in for the weekend were German, plus most of the staff (majority of which are Quechua) could speak some German! From Majorca to Mombasa to Napo you will find German tourist outposts......my friends were excited by this little luxury but I was appalled by the brash imposition of German as the lingua franca and lack of effort to communicate with non-German speaking guests aka myself (I'm speaking of the German tourists only here, and to some respect the Swiss customer relations girl). The lodge itself is a gem as I will soon describe. For now I napped for 2 continuous hours before dinner.




To save me from other nasty insects.......it's supafly!! (can u diggit?!)


K.

Quito - Chuchaki Achachai - Part 2: The Environs

The weekends didnt put an end to the "Chuchaki", oh no. My "local" was "El Aguijon" (the Scorpion), a discotheque/bar in the bario "El Mariscal" or otherwise known as "Gringolandia" (because most of the hostels, hotels, bars and upmarket restaurants are here and hence Gringos a-plenty!). El Aguijon has a cool vibe to it. Resident DJs with funky dreadlocks spinning a mix of reggae, ska, funk, salsa, rock, cumbia and the occasional Snoop Dogg track drops in out of nowhere. And it gets crazy when the ska is on coz people start mashin' it up, bouncing around the club like billiard balls. There is a cool and robust table footy set complete without the glass lid. That means that if you strike the ball, which by the way is a marble, too hard it flies off the table and pobably knocks an eye out. The little football players look like deformed zombies because the plastic was fused to the twisting pole in a crude manner. One cool feature is the big screen above the podium showing cool music videos . The podium itself has tables and chairs from which you can watch your friends do the salsa or just dance like morons.

This turkey was quite excited to see us.....kept following us....a disturbing moment





A serene moment at a nearby lodge that we visited in San Pablo...

Otavalo is one of Ecuadors largest market towns, just north of Quito, so it was a must see. One Saturday I went to Otavalo with a couple of friends for the day. One of them is from a small town a couple of kilometres before Otavalo, called San Pablo so we popped by her parents place for some good old S. American hospitality. They have an enormous house with a centred courtyard (Arab style) and it is also located just next to the church. It was hilarious to find out that in the kitchen it is possible to hear the sermon so you don't need to attend mass and you certainly got a good excuse for "Padre" if he notes that he hasn't seen you in church for a while!

In San Pablo





The San Pablo house next to church!

Otavalo was very busy on Saturday market day. Most of us arrived without plans to buy anything in particular but either the seller or a captivating piece of art or garment convinces one what to buy. I ended up buying a couple of embroidered cotton trousers and a cool leather wallet (it was the real deal unlike the fake so-called leather wallets you get in most places, with fake tags boasting how genuine they are).

Very busy market day in Otavalo

The afternoon excursions continued and sometimes I would choose where to go and sometimes the teacher would select a personal favourite, sometimes bizarre, sometimes stunning. We visited the Santa Catalina Convent and I'd have sworn I saw Mother Superior at the entrance with the chunkiest nun outfit I've ever seen and she looked meaner than the sister in 'Blue s Brothers' for real! Photography was not allowed in the inner sanctum and even though we didnt have access to the main residential areas we had a glimpse of a corridor so immaculate and clean (like the conception...haha). There were some interesting religious relics and artwork including some spooky remains of saints. I only managed to get a snap of the grand chapel.

The "Museo de Banco Central de Ecuador" was a treat. It has a large collection of pre-Columbian artefacts from prehistoric periods upto the Inca Empire. I went there with my teacher and also with another teacher and her student. The deep and varied culture that produced these items of art stirred so much debate between the 2 teachers that our 2 groups proceeded a couple of exhibits between each other to prevent intellectual tension (Marlien and I just stared at each other with puzzled looks as our teachers argued about the delicate matters of the social organisation of the Guaya river valley tribes). You gotta love Latin passion!

Colourful ropes to leash the cute creatures up for sale in Sakisili market

The "Virgen del Panecillo" is unavoidable from most parts of Quito. The aluminium monolith of the Virgin Mary subduing a demon stands on the Panecillo hill that separates the North and South of Quito. The climb up by taxi is interesting as the road sweeps around the hill in a spiral, so you see Quito from all angles. By the way, walking up is not recommended as one of the roughest parts of Quito are at the foot of the hill. In fact I heard a friend mention that some tourists did it but not without residents warning (or is it taunting from would be muggers?) them that it is too dangerous. We survived the climb in the battered old gasoline stinkin' taxi. Not only was the taxi old school, so was the driver. I asked him to take a photo shot of my teacher and I with the statue in the background but he couldnt even hold the camera properly let alone push the shutter at the same time. So we got another taxi driver to do it, with the old man grunting away about bloody technology of the 21st century (I didn't bother telling him that cameras are 19th century technologies)!

Virgen del Panecillo

In the spirit of quirkiness Juan, my teacher, suggested visiting the San Diego cemetery near the Panecillo. It is located right next to a Franciscan monastery and the courtyard facing both cemetery and monastery sold all sorts of paraphanelia relating to Death. So that set the scene for walking into the walled and security guarded (the tombstones in there are worth a lot!) complex. I had instant deja vu as I had been to 2 other cities for the dead in Buenos Aires. Even though this one was tinier, it was truly grand and spooky at the same time. I thought that the manner of burial in drawers was a southern European thing but I learnt that even the Andean folk caught on to this style. On All Saints Day, "El Dia de los Muertos", people (whole families!) converge into cemeteries to clean, redecorate and commune with the tombs of the dead. Andean culture goes as far as setting up a picnic to dine with the dearly departed loved one. To the delight of the families, the dead tend to eat slow and the plate is empty the following day (with the assistance of a couple of crows and rodents). See link below for more (on the Panecillo and cemetery, not the dead eating food!):

http://www.flickr.com/gp/15198453@N00/UnebWG





Cimeterio de San Diego....those lovely windows are tombs

Juan is superkeen on culture, in fact I heard he is writing a book on a social matter. The day after the Panecillo and San Diego visits we did a full day excursion class in Sakisili, another market town 2 hours by bus South of Quito. It is overlooked by the majestic Cotopaxi, one of the highest active volcanoes in the world. It was cloudy all day so I hardly saw the peak. Even though the Otavalo market is much larger, Sakisili offered a larger variety of goods from Llamas and chickens to arts and crafts to hardware and lingerie. It was far more interesting. See link below for the Ecuador markets photo gallery.

http://www.flickr.com/gp/15198453@N00/XLX7d3





Cotopaxi volcano....as I would've seen it on a clear day!

My experience of the animal market was mixed. Much as I marvelled at the trading skills of the villagers and numbers of plump and healthy pigs, cattle, sheep, llamas and alpacas, I was shocked at the way alpacas and sheep were bundled in the back of the same van and upto 6 piglets were tied to the same peg, all scattering about until they get tangled up and can't move until the owner takes notice and untangles them. I ain't one to complain about animal cruelty. I was proud to bargain down the price of an Alpaca jumper by half!

It took 3 guys to get the poor alpaca in...

To the surprise of my teacher I insisted on eating at the market open air stalls so we selected the stall with the most piping hot food and the most customers where we ordered chicken soup (complete with chicken leg and breast) and beer. I don't think I spent more than $2 on those two items! It was really cool chatting with local folk and they marvelled at how far Ive travelled (with relation to where I was born.....Kenya, an African country that existed just in their imagination from TV docs and tales from European tourists) and whatever I had to say. Now a gloating moment. They were impressed that I even dared to eat there (courtesy of my iron clad African tummy) and get my Spanish on (well, I had my teacher there in case I commit a linguistic blunder!). Most so-called Gringos don't do it unless they are anthropologists or missionaries (and it was not me who said this!). Oh, and if you look hard enough you can buy live snails. Mmmmm.

Look at the ladies on the left.....the food was tasty!





I spotted this hoodie selling his cow so he could buy the new Nintendo Wii.....now that's what I call Gangsta!


K.