Sometimes detailed just isn't detailed ENOUGH

The stuff in bold is the text I got from my Air BnB host regarding how to get to his place from the airport.  The other text is what I was thinking and how things ACTUALLY went down.

Now, if you have NO experience with German, then this will make NO sense to you, and you will feel EXACTLY as I did upon receiving this message from my host.  If you do have experience/knowledge of German, try to forget all that and pretend with me.

I had gotten a last second place to stay with someone through Air BnB and he seemed really awesome and gave me, what seemed like at the time, super detailed directions on how to get to his place.  

Alright, so with some construction this is going to be a mini journey but it should be enjoyable :). This will cost you about 3.50 euros as opposed to a 20 something taxi.

Awesome!  I appreciate that!  I can do public transportation.

From the airport you are going to get on the sbahn (above ground rail) and you will get on the RE7 (Dessau).

You will take this for a while till Ostbahnhof (a larger station).

Shit.  I don't know that word.  And where does one go to get on the "sbahn"?

Me to person at counter in airport: Where do I catch the sbahn?

Person at the counter points me in the general direction.  

Now, I am going to follow the stream of people to what looks like train tracks.  People are lining up to buy tickets.  Crap.  That means I should buy tickets.  

(So I stand in line and when I get up to the front of the line)

Wow, none of this is in English.  And I don't see the words "Ostbahnhof", "RE7", or Dessau anywhere.

To person next to me: Do you speak English

Person: Yes

Me: Awesome!  Can you help me?  I don't know what ticket to get?

Person: Where are you trying to go?

Me: I'm not sure, but this (show her the phone) is the information I have.

Person: (glances at the phone) Oh, you want this one (she pushes the buttons for a ticket)

Me: Thank you so much! (I put in my money, take my change and the ticket)

Phew.  Now, where do I catch this train?  This "station" is really empty.  Do trains even come here?  How can you tell which platform you need?  (I finally found a map or something that helped with this) But what if I get on the wrong direction?! (I look on the map, find the word Dessau) Ooh!  I know that word!  I need to follow that word!

(I go to the platform and wait for the next train, about 10 minutes but it felt like half an hour!)

(I get on the train and get off at the appropriate station and continue the instructions)

From here you will switch to the S5 (Hoppegarten) to Warschauer Straße Station. This is a major tourist hub so be prepared :). From here you will walk up some steps and cross a bridge that will end with some kiosks.

Riiiiiiiiight.  S5.  And what the hell is that weird "b" thing?

(I do some walking back and forth to figure out where to go, which direction I want and then I look again, just to be sure.

(Once off the train, there really only seemed to be 1 way to go, so I just followed the crowd and it did indeed lead me up stairs and across a bridge with some kiosks)

Cool.  This is all going ok so far!

You will take a right up the street and walk about 200 meters. There will be a Sparkasse Bank on your right side about a block up.

A what?  

(I walk about 200m)  

Is that a bank?  Does it say Sparkasse?  Is this a block, or half a block?  Oh, look!  A TRAM!  Where does it stop?  That's probably where I need to be!

Here there will be a tram stop on your left side. Here you will take the M13 going the direction of your right. I believe it will say Wedding on it. You will ride this about ten minutes and you want to exit at Möllendorffstr/storkowerstr.

It will be two stops after the frankfurter allee stop
Which is in front of a very large shopping complex.

I'm on the right tram.  Cool.  I didn't see any "Wedding" on it so I guess I'll just keep my eyes out for the stop names.  Weird freaking names.  German is weird.

(About 10 minutes later I do indeed pass a large shopping complex, and the stop called Frankfurter Allee)

Oh, thank god!  Ok, only 2 more stops then I get off.

(I ride 2 stops farther)

Wait, that isn't the right name?  Maybe he meant 3 stops?  I'll ride to the next one and if it isn't the Möllendorffstr/storkowerstr stop, then I'll get off and double back.  We seem to be traveling down a main road.

(The next stop is indeed the Möllendorffstr/storkowerstr stop, so I hop off)

From the Möllendorffstr stop you will exit and my building is the late one being renovated opposite of the stop across from the church:

Môllendorffstr (number hidden) Berlin.

It is the second door to the right of the ice skate shop. My apartment is the first on your left side, on the first floor. The front door is unlocked.

Thanks/ good luck and I'll see you when you get here :). Enjoy the ride and take in the view, you will be traveling from the south of Berlin to the east.

What?  What direction do I exit the train?  Do I cross the street?  Left or right dude?!  I don't see a church!  AND WHAT THE HELL IS CONSIDERED A "LATE" BUILDING?  Crap!  Everything is "under renovation!  Where am I supposed to go?!!!!!!  (this was all happening simultaneously, and without any order.  Needless to say I was on the verge of panicking)

(Deep breaths happen)

(Looking around.  Find a street sign.  It says Môllendorffstr.)

Ok, that is the street his building is on.  So I know it is along THIS street.

(I look around for anything that looks like a church, since churches tend to have steeples here and look relatively conspicuous)

Well, I guess I should just start walking and see what happens to the numbers on the buildings, or if there is a church or something nearby.

(So I start walking.  The numbers don't show up regularly, and when they do they make NO sense so I end up walking up and down the same block about 3 times before I finally decide to just keep going.  I'm looking at each building as I pass it thinking...)

Is that a "late building"?  Does "late" mean old here too?  What about that one?  It looks kind of old.  But is that old for HERE.  Get out of the colonies Kathryn!  Think Germany!  Old is OLDER here.  But is he talking ugly?  Architecture wise?  I know shit about architecture.

(So I decide to continue walking in the direction I had come.  He did, after all, say to go only 2 stops.  Maybe that had been a mistake?  So I'm walking and scrutinizing every single building I walk by if it is "late" when I finally see a church)

AH!!  A church!!  Hidden in amongst these trees, almost on an "island" in the middle of this road, but whatever.  A CHURCH!  

(Now I start looking around with even more gusto)

Oooh!  That building looks like it is kind of old.  Oh, no wait!  That one!  Right across from the church, COMPLETELY surrounded by scaffolding, looks old, that HAS to be it!

(I walk to the building and find the ice skating shop)

ICE SKATING SHOP!  I never thought I'd be so happy to see sparkly spandex!  This has GOT to be the right place.  Ok.  What did he say, 2 doors down from the shop?  

(I check the message again)

Yeah.  Awesome!

(I go in the door and go up to the first floor.  There are only 2 doors.  I knock on the door on my left.)

God I hope this is the right one, but it is a 50/50 chance right?  

(I hear some moving around, the clicky toes of a dog..)

Oooh, dog is a good sign.  He has a dog!

(And the door is opened and there stands a person who could be my host)

Me: Jacob?

Jacob: You're alive!

So at this point, I've been surviving on adrenaline.  I'm tired, hungry and really want a shower.  Jacob shows me around and then shows me my room.  My OWN room.  After a week of hostels I have missed the freedom of having my OWN space.  He asks me if I'm hungry, I say an enthusiastic yes, and he says he has some left over (insert italian food thingy) that he can heat up.  It was SO good!

After eating I sit down to play with the dog and chat with Jacob and his roommate a bit before crashing.  When he realizes that this was my first day in Germany, with NO German experience he opens his eyes wide and said,

"Well, if I'd known that I would have given you TOTALLY different directions!  Wow."

That's right.  Wow.  I survived.  

I.  Survived.

Welcome to Germany Kathryn

Escaleras de Quito

I found this blog post saved as a draft from over three years ago, and it was practically finished.  Added one last picture and posted.  Sorry for the "out of order" ness.

Quito is in the valley of several mountains.  Everywhere I look there is a mountain or a hill that is towering above me or looming below me.  We had to climb a hill to get from the airport to the bus station.  We climbed hills in our search for hostels (several hills!).  

One of the hostels we checked out had their reception on the 5th floor.  While it was a beautiful view from there,  you had to go up four flights of kind of uneven stairs in order to even find out if they had room:

View from above at the annoying uneven stairs leading up to the fourth floor.

and then a spiral staircase (which isn´t easy when carrying a backpack):

Final flight of stairs to the roof!

The hostel we finally chose is about halfway up a hill: 

These stairs start on the street our hostel is on.  They keep going too.

and our room was on the second floor:  

First flight of stirs to our room

The kitchen and place to do laundry was on the roof, another three flights of stairs up from our room.

The restaurant we ate at a couple of times had very little space to sit and eat, so we climbed the stiairs to get to the upper floor where there were seats available.

Up to the second level of the restaurant

 The next day we decided to climb the towers of the Basilica.

These are the clock towers.  There is a slightly shorter one that we climbed as well.

It has absolutely beautiful architecture but some of the stairs used to get to the top of the towers were a bit, no, really horrifying.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, there were stairs, hills, slopes, and mountains everywhere.  Needless to say, my calves got quite a work out.

23 miles and 21 gears, no walking!

I am not a cyclist.  I like to ride bikes, I grew up having a bike, and I currently have a bike that is mostly a modern art statue in my entry room right now.  However when planning my trip to Dingle Ireland, I fell in love with the descriptions and photos of the "Dingle Loop" and it became one of the "must do's" while I was in Dingle, despite the description consisting of the phrases "55 km" and "5 hours".

For those of you who keep chuckling when I say the word Dingle, get it all out now: hahahahahahahaha
Ok.  Moving on now.

My chosen day started out cloudy and rainy and the idea of cycling 37 km (23 miles) in the rain didn't sound very enjoyable but I got lucky and by 1pm the clouds parted and other than a bit of humidity it was looking like a glorious day.  I rented a bike.  I packed food, water, camera and an extra layer or two should the weather turn again and set off.

Map of the peninsula.  I started in Dingle (lower right) and followed the red path, until I got to An Mhuirioch and then I took the orange path back to Dingle.

So roads in Europe are already narrower than what you might be imagining.  There are no Hummers and very rarely do you see an SUV on the roads in Europe.  In Ireland it was also rare to find bike lanes and on the Dingle Peninsula they were nonexistent.

After riding for about an hour I came to a place to pull off (circled point 6 on map), walk a couple minutes up the hill, and see the "Beehive Huts" that were built around 2000 BC.  They were carefully stacked flat-ish stones, with each layer placed a little closer toward the center of the hut than the next.  There was no mortar used and would be finished with one large stone over the last open area.  It was impressive that these structures are still standing.  The walls that separate the fields that cover the hill are made in the same manner.  No mortar, just careful stacking.

I had a nice chat with some other people that had stopped there and I took in the sights for a bit longer before climbing back on my bike to continue the ride.  There are really only 2 ways to "see" the Dingle loop.  You can bike it, or dive it.  There are a lot of buses that do driving tours, and going around those curves on a bike, on the "wrong" side of the road, with a bus coming towards me was, interesting at times.

Cross at the Western most point of the Peninsula: Slea Head (Ceann Sleibhe)  

About a half hour later I was pedaling up another hill when I reached the peak and, from a distance, I saw this fantastic beach in the distance (the green dot on the map).  It was practically calling my name.

I rode down the parking area and most of the way down the ramp, parked my bike, removed my shoes and I stepped onto an Atlantic beach for the first time in my life.  This little alcove of a beach was practically singing.  I walked to the water's edge and felt the cold (but not icy) water flow over my toes.  I didn't want to leave.  Unfortunately I had not come prepared for beach-ing, and my late start to the day forced me to leave long before I was ready to.

I walked back to my bike, dried off my feet and put my shoes back on and continued my ride.  Looking out over the water I knew I would be back because this place felt like home.

The rest of the ride was beautiful, but since I was worried about riding a bike on the road without lights or things to make me visible I didn't make any additional stops.  I rode past some beautiful towns, historic churches and hill after hill of patchwork farmland in variations of green that I didn't know were possible.

If you look back at the map at the top, you'll notice that my "short cut" home using the orange route took me through a bit of an incline.  I didn't have 20 more km left in me, so I cut through the hills to ride the 10km route back to Dingle.  As I pedaled up that hill, I was passed by some serious cyclists, but I am proud to say that I did NOT get off that bike.  I use all 21 of the gears on the bike and I may have been going slow, but I did it.

When I go back to Dingle I will do the loop again.  Maybe on a bike, maybe in a car, but I will take as much time as I want.  Maybe stay in one of the multitudes of Bed and Breakfasts that I passed along the way and really get time to soak in the beautiful sights that feel so much like home.

The glory of trains

Since I won't have reliable computer access for the foreseeable future, I apologize for the onslaught of blogging.  It is hard to type on a kindle fire without a keyboard.

I love the availablity of travel modes here.  Buses and trains that are fairly regular and on time (more than in the US anyway).  However, one big difference for me is that where you are going to "end" your trip is not the same place as where the bus or train is going to "end".  So this is my journey to York...

A little back story for those of you who don't know me that well: I like sleep.  I LOVE to sleep.  Also, if I am in a vehicle (car, train, bus, plane etc.) and am not driving, engaged in conversation or eating pretzels (don't ask) I will fall asleep.  In minutes.


My train left at 06.15.  And I was up late with my courchsurfing host the night before so I got about 5 hours of sleep.  This trip however requires 2 train changes.  So I fight to stay awake for the first 25 minutes, am successful and make the first change at King's Cross station.

I get off at the appropriate station and then onto the next train.  Again, I forced myself to stay awake, despite the gentle sway of the train.  As we near the station I'm supposed to get off at, I start to gather my things, but slower than usual.  The train stops, I'm still gathering.  I finish gathering and begin to walk to the door, but the door closes.  I push the door opening button but once they close, they are closed.  Damn.  So I sit down and take the train to the next station.  I get off there, cross to the other side, and wait the 20 minutes for the next train.

So I go back to the CORRECT station, wait for the next available train, then get on that one.  I'm now running 45 minutes behind schedule.  Sigh.  Fortunately my couch surfing host, Simon, who was going to meet me at the station to give me a key, agreed to hide a key for me in his yard since I was going to be much later than expected.

So I'm on the longest leg of my journey now and REALLY can't keep my eyes open.  I have an hour to kill so I allow myself to close my eyes and drift off.  Yeah, yeah, I know.  Set a timer!  But I forget that the station I was getting off at was not the END for this train.

I wake up 2 hours later.  I'm almost at the station 1hr PAST my intended departure.  So, while I'm feeling well rested, I'm feeling rather silly.  Simon texts me to see if I found the key alright.  I fess up and tell him. He replies: "I'm laughing my tits off right now.  Sorry.  Hope it works out soon."

I get off the train, find the platform for the train going BACK the other way, wait 20 minutes, get back on a train and manage to stay awake for the hour it takes for me to get to York.

I got there 3 hours later than planned, I felt really silly but I learned.

Fortunately York was fantastic and it helped me to forget the ridiculus turmoil I went through getting to such a beautiful desitnation.

So what I have learned:
Set alarms.  Yeah, more than one.
Double and triple check the trains you get on.
Arrive early.
GET A FULL NIGHT'S SLEEP the night before an early train.
Set an alarm!
Be waiting for the door to open before the train has even stopped.
Oh yeah, SET AN ALARM!!!!!!

London Baby!!

London.  Big.  Enormous.  AND OLD!!

I decided to venture into London right off the plane, on 3 hours of sleep.  The phenomenal Julz had picked me up at the airport, took me to breakfast and in her usual level of enthusiasm agreed to go into town with me.  I had warned her that I wanted to do the touristy shit.  Big Ben.  The London Eye.  Find a phone booth and take a cliche picture in one.  She may not have been smiling as she put up with me, but let's face it, smiling is rare for her to begin with.

I owe her about 8 pints for putting up with me on one thing though.  I wanted to see platform 9 3/4 in King's Cross Station.  We got there and she pointed me in the right direction and then, there was a que.  Of course.  Granted we were there in the morning, so it could have been much worse, but still it was a good 30 minutes before I got to grab on to that trolly and imagine I was finally on my way to the Hogwart's express after receiving my letter of acceptance 20 years too late.  

Turns out they have made the platform into even more of a tourist trap.  Before the remodel apparently the trolley was just there, in the middle of a wall, no fuss, no muss.  Now it has a fancy sign and there is a new "9 3/4 Store" next to it.  They now have a staff photographer out there to take your picture and then you can go inside and buy your overpriced photo  in a ridiculous frame.  Now, they also had a SECOND staff member who put a scarf around your neck (of the chosen house) and then holds the scarf out behind you as the photographer gets ready to click.  

Now, let us paint a little bit more of a picture.  I am surrounded by about 35 avid harry potter fans, from all over, speaking multiple languages and then Julz who is less than enthusiastic about the long ass que we are in.  The photographer was Spanish and talked in a lovely Spanish accent with a little bit of a lisp.  As he got ready to take the picture, the second staff member was holding the scarf out behind the photographee, I would hear, in that lovely Spanish accent, "1, 2, 3 aaaaaaaaaaand scaaaaaaaaarf".  Yeah.  EVERY. DAMN. TIME.

Yes, I got a photo of me running through the enchanted wall.  Yes it was a blast.  Yes, I am still in love with Harry Potter.  However, I will NEVER be able to look at a house scarf without hearing that voice saying (over and over again) "1, 2, 3 aaaaaaaaaaaaaand scaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarf".

Kalamata Olives

About four months ago I was living with a family in the Amazon Rainforest.  I was eating what they ate, worked like they do and was getting eaten by mosquitoes the way they might, if they didn’t have a sixth sense about when they were going to be bitten.  I miss it and think of it often but since then I have had quite a few other adventures.  I have visited Crater Lake, driven across the country, and have lived in Atlanta for a month and a half.  However, I was sitting down to dinner with my partners tonight and as I was eating a wonderful salad with lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, croutons, sunflower seeds, and kalamata olives, I suddenly felt as if I was being pulled into a time warp tunnel back to the Amazon Rainforest four months ago…

We had walked through the forest for two hours, jumped off of a 30 foot waterfall, walked for another hour and a half when one of the brothers from the family led us off the trail to this strange little grove where a tree had been cut down, and from the looks of it, quite a while ago.  With the warm rain falling on us, we watched as the brother took his machete and began to hack away at the next uncut foot of the fallen tree.  As I looked at the tree, I could tell that the tree had been felled for just this purpose, and whatever was living in it wasn’t harvested often.  The tree was tawny in color and in various stages of decomposition, as if only a foot of it was used at a time.  The grove was filed with an unusual, yet familiar scent.  As I was trying to recall what it reminded me of, Jose asked me

“What does this place smell like?” I closed my eyes and concentrated fully on the smell, then said,

The grubs.  Slimy, yet, not satisfying.

“Kalamata olives.”  He nodded in agreement.  As I turned again to the brother hacking away at the fallen tree, I saw that he was pulling grubs from the trunk and suddenly I realized why it had been cut down.  This tree harbored a specific type of insect larvae and by cutting the tree down they could have a predictable source of this nutritious food.  Having had a previous, and not so positive experience, with grubs only a few days before, I declined tasting this culinary delight.  Jose, having enjoyed his first grub, took one, popped it into his mouth, and chewed viciously (the outside of grubs are very chewy).  As we walked away with a leaf bundle of grubs to take home, Jose says,

“Those tasted like kalamata olives a little, like the tree I guess.”

“The tree was probably starting to ferment, and the grubs eat the tree.”  I replied.  Nodding his head he said,

“I liked the other ones better.  They were creamier.”

Now, four months later, I am still reminded of that grove, the way the scent of the fermenting tree filled the air around us, and Jose’s frank evaluation of the grubs every time I eat kalamata olives.  In time this memory association may fade, but part of me doesn’t really want it to.  However, I’m tired of thinking of grubs every time I bite into something delicious with a piece of kalamata olive in it.   

Blisters, Bug Bites and Babies, Oh My!

I will have to write a post about Quito another time because what I have been doing for the past four days is much more worthy of a blog post.

While in Quito, Jose and I were wondering how we were going to spend our three weeks in the beautiful country of Ecuador, especially since going to the Galapagos Islands was WAAAAAY above our price range.  I wanted, no, needed to see the jungle.  We looked into tours into the Amazon and the cheapest one was $240 for three nights, four days.  It would have been wonderful, but also too expensive.  Jose, with his masterful internet seach skills found a site describing a family that lives in the jungle and often has tourists and volunteers come to stay with them: Cinimp Tuna.  It sounded perfect.  I sent an email to the "contact us" address and hoped to hear back within a couiple of days. 

Two days, three days went by and I still hadn´t gotten a response.  We made plans to head south to Baños and then possibly to Puyo in hopes of finding an affordable way to get into the Jungle.  Then I got an email.  Abbie (a former volunteer with Chinimp Tuna) gave us all the information we had asked for, and then some.  And the price was affordable: $25 a day, or if you stay a week it is $75 per person.  We talked it over and then replied to her to let the family know to expect us within the next couple of days. 

A 1.5 hour bus ride from Baños to Puyo, the purchase of rubber boots in Puyo, then a bus headed toward the Chico Copataza Community for 2 hours.  As we are on the second bus we enter the forest.  Granted this is probably tertiary forest (it has been cleared and regrown at least twice) so there aren´t as many big trees, but it is still the jungle.  Around some corners we could see over a cliff and as far as I could see there was jungle.  Green, green and more green.  Different textures, colors and shapes.  I was going to the jungle!  We stepped off the bus in what felt like the middle of nowhere and are greeted by no less tha six people, with at least 4 children watching from a distance.  They shake our hands, the women kiss my cheek, the chickens on the ground dare to venture closer, the children just stare.  They takes us the main house that they use for gatherings and Manuel welcomes us to Chinimp Tuna (named for a bird and a waterfall).  They seem a little perplexed to see us, and then we find that no one told HIM that we were coming.  Huh.  They scrambled to make dinner for us, to prepare two beds upstairs and to clean off the table where we could eat.  I felt kind of bad, but we had no way of knowing that they were not informed.  We were given juice and we both looked at is skeptically.  The water here was definately NOT safe to drink, but what were we to do?  The family obviously drank water and it was rude to not drink it.  We looked at each other and drank up.

We went up to our "room" which was filled with 11 sets of bunk beds and two of them had been made up for us.  No mosquito netting, the rooms were far from being sealed from bugs and the beds shook a little whenever anyone walked up the stairs to the second floor.  This was going to be an experience! 

After a dinner with rice, noodles, tea and fish:

we went back upstairs to relax.  Soon we began to be attacked by bugs.  Josè went down to ask for a "mosquitero" (mosquito net) and they only had one.  He, awesomely, let me use it the first night and it was a god send.  Lulled to sleep by the jungle symphony of insects, frogs, toads and the occasional unknown sound, we fell asleep in the Jungle.

The next day we were greeted by a lazy rooster (he crowed maybe twice), a hen that wanted to be a rooster, and the sound of a crying baby (which turned out to be the pet parrot).  Our first task after breakfast was to snort this liquid up our nose, which would help us have a better experince in the forest, clean our our sinuses and I´m sure some other benefits. It was water that had tobacco leaves soaking in it.  There may have been other things but I am not sure.  Josè went first, fearlessly and I hestitantly followed.  Its an adventure, right?  It burned, making my nose tingle and my eyes water but eventually that went away.  Then there was a little dizziness and the colors became a little more vivid.  Hrm.  I think I was a little high. 

We ventured into the forest with Dario yeliding his jungle sword (machete) and followed by 5 children.  About 5 meters in we were very thankful for the rain boots as the ground was extremely muddy and more than once the jungle tried to claim our boots for itself.  Our entourage soon ventured off without us, climbing trees and following paths that only their experienced eyes could see.  We tasted fruits and vegetables from the forest as well as seeing brightly colored as well as huge spiders, millipedes and a lot of evidence of monkeys. 

While walking along the river bank I slipped and fell on the rocks banging up my knee, my ribs on the left side and my finger.  My camera was safe though.  Phew!  We finally reached our desitnation and I discovered the real reason the kids came with us.  There was a beautiful waterfall of clear cold water.  The kids had already stripped down to their skivies and were jumping and diving off the rocks into the pool below.  Following their lead I got down to my bathing suit and after some hesitation I jumped into the water.  Cold, but when I lay back to float on my back I saw sunlight, green all around and butterflies fluttering overhead.  I quickly forgot the temperature of the water. 

I swam over to the base of the waterfall (only about 5.5 feet tall, so easy to climb and not too powerful) and tried to climb up the rocks the same way I had seen the kids doing it.  I guess they just knew where to grab because I must have spent a good minute or two struggling to get up.  The kids laughed at me and finally one girl, Yocanda, offered me her hand.  Now Yocanda is 11 years old and skinny as a stick.  I didn´t want to risk her falling down if I slipped so I hesitantly took her hand. 

Carolina (left) and Yoconda (right)

It wasn´t until one of my feet begin to slip and I felt her arm pulling me up when I realized how strong this young girl was.  She grew up in this forest, climing trees, swimming, fishing, running.  When I looked at her again she was skinny, but ALL muscle.  She had a six pack!  Yet another lesson in "first impressions are often wrong".

Carolina helping me up

We all swam and jumped and climed until it was time to go. 

Yocanda, me and Carolina

Yoconda, Josè and Carolina

The girls (Yocanda, Nelba and Crolina) were especially fascinated with my skin, especially the back of my hands that were sunburned.  They would touch them and watch them turn white then back to red and ask me how it happened.  I would try to explain to them that it was the sun but it was such a foreign idea to them that I don´t think they understood what I was talking about.

On our way back home we ate grubs (I ate the small one but the big ones, the ones that were bigger around than my thumb, I couldn´t do it.  I did try though!), watched the kids climb different trees to gather palm fruits and papaya, Yocanda cut down a palm and extracted the heart of it (I had NO idea how much waste went into that little bit of tender food!) and once again the girls helped me through the forest, telling me to watch my head or to look out for the spider web.  

Back home we had lunch and a rest, then Dario took us to Rio Grande (the big river) also called Rio Cotopaza.  He painted our faces with the pigment of a fruit saying it keeps away the bugs, fish and alligators.  At the river we found the children with inner-tubes, playing in the water and in the sand on the other side of the river.  We once again bathed/swam in the river and when the sun started to go down the three of us dried off and went home, the kids stayed to play until the sun was gone.

The next day, Sunday, Jose learned to fish with a net, and I did a lot of holding the machete and watching.  I don´t have time to go into it all right now but it was a fascinating day watching them complete tasks that are hard and frustrating to me, but they have grown up doing it and it is part of their life.  That afternoon and into the evening we both learned how to make the jewelry they wear in that community.  I was in heaven!  There were kids ALL around, mostly watching Jose and I to see (I think) if we could do it.  Another falling down incident occurred when I tried to jump for something while wearing flipflops, on slippery rocks that were not flat and I landed almost on of one of the kids hitting my knee (the same one I banged the day before) and jamming my right pinky when I fell.  The kid started to cry but I learned later that it was probably mostly out of surprise.  The kids have fallen from the second story and are totally fine.  Wow.  

Yesterday we joined Manuel and three of his sons for their daily work in the forest.  We were all given machetes and we were told to cut down everything within a certain area, except the palm trees.  I know what you are thinking.  “YOU CUT DOWN THE RAINFOREST?!” but these people use it for their livelihood.  They are not commercial growers and they don´t do mono-crops.  They plant three or four things in the same plot of land and cut down only as much as they need.  It was hard work and José and I both had blisters by the time we quit for lunch.  Cutting open an orange for a snack (energy to get us back to the house pretty much) we then began the trek back home.  Lunch was wonderful soup with the best papaya I have EVER had.  It was amazing!  Then we had rest time for an hour, then back into the forest to plant things.  We gathered bags of sticks and took them to a cleared place that they already had yucca growing in.  The two men sharpened stick and used them to make holes in the ground where José and I planted the sticks.  The plant was something that they used in fishing.  The mash it up and put it between rocks and it, essentially, drunken the crabs and kills the fish so they can just pick them up out of the water.  Interesting.  Then we planted the jungle version of potatoes.  We finished rather quickly and then had more papaya as a snack.  We trekked back to the house and had a couple hours to bathe (in the river by the way) and then rest until dinner.

Today our hands are sore and we have more bug bites than we can count but it has been so much fun so far!  Tomorrow we are going to do another type of work and then on Thursday (our last day there) we will hike to the big waterfall where the water is so clear you can see the fish when you swim in it.