DAY 7: I learned a new expression in Spanish today: "Su banco es està fuera de linea." Translation: "Your bank is off-line." I have decided this is my least favorite Spanish expression so far.

I wandered around Otavalo's streets in search of an ATM so I could get some cash to pay my hostel bill. Leave it to me to be so accustomed to ATMs on every street corner in New York that I just assumed finding an ATM wouldn't be a problem. But it was. I only found three open ATMs in Otavalo, all from the same bank, and each of them told me that my bank was offline and to try again later. All the banks and money exchange offices were closed because it was Sunday, and the one bank that was open wouldn't let me cash in any travellers' checks.

Luckily for me, Navid -- with this G.I.Joe Gung Ho demeanor -- had enough cash to spot me and helped me out, like in a public service announcement at the end of a G.I.Joe cartoon. So next time, I'll have enough cash in a small town on a Sunday. Now I know, and knowing is half the battle!

One thing about money in Ecuador; they use the US dollar. They used to have their own currency, the sucre, but in the late 90s, its value tanked down to the value of a dotcom stock option in 2001: worthless. In 2000, despite protests for national identity, the government switched over the US dollar. Now they use the same paper money as the USA -- I don't know if they've seen the new 20 yet -- but their coins are different. Well, the size and weight of the Ecuadorean coins are the same so you could probably get away with using them at an American laudromat. The use of the golden dollar with Sacajawea on it is in wide use here, probably because she looks like one of the indigenous people anyway. I love using the golden dollar whenever I can; I feel like I'm in a fairy tale, buying things with gold coins.

Another thing about money... no one here has change! If something is eight dollars, and I give a ten, they sneer at me like "You stupid gringo, don't you have eight gold coins?" Then it's a big to-do when the person has to go out to another store, or send their kid out, just to get me my two dollars. ("Give me my two dollars!") I swear I almost gave a guy a heart attack when I gave a five dollar bill for something that only cost a quarter.

WE BID FAREWELL TO THE FAMILY of the hostel. Pablo and his dad -- I never got his name -- drove us to the bus station, where we hopped on one of the many buses that were going to Quito. The bus rode on the windy roads through the mountains and over the equator again. We stopped along the highway to pick up any villagers who needed a lift, including a family near the Cayambe volcano.

Since it was Sunday, there wasn't much traffic and the trip only lasted about 90 minutes. Instead of movies, the conductor just played a mixtape of soft rock tunes from the 80's, like Lionel Richie and Bryan Adams. It just put me to sleep.

I WOKE UP TO THE STENCH OF AIR POLLUTION and knew immediately that we were back in the big city. Navid and I split a cab back to the backpacker district and checked back into the Crossroads hostel, just in time before it started pouring rain. Lars was still there, bored in room #1 as he had been for the past eight weeks, but he told me he actually had a good weekend mountain biking with the hostel owner.

I went over to the ATM that I used the week before and it told me the same thing: "Su banco es està fuera de linea." A bank across the street said the same thing: "Su banco es està fuera de linea." It was raining and everything was closed, but I pressed on. Luckily I found another ATM that had some cash and went out to get something to eat.

DESPITE BEING IN THE BACKPACKER DISTRICT, everything was pretty much closed at 4pm on Sunday. Luckily I found this middle eastern restaurant and hookah bar and managed to order a falafel sandwich. I was sitting alone in the dark room, surrounded by pictures of Iran and Saudi Arabia, until a teenage boy came in the door.

"¿Tu hables inglès?" he asked me.

"Sí...um, yes."

"I am a student and was wondering if you could help me with my homework." I had noticed him and a girl at a table outside, fiddling around with a microphone connected to a boombox. "I just need to interview someone who is native English speaking." I brought my food outside and hung out with the two of them.

Luis was in college in a suburb of Quito, and he and his cousin Carolina decided to go to the one place in the area that they figured they could interview some gringos for his assignment. All he had to do was tape an interview with someone and prove to his professor that his English was good enough to conduct an English conversation with someone who doesn't really know Spanish. On tape, he asked me simple questions -- Where are you from? Do you like Quito? -- but off tape, he helped me learn some new words, including putaand cucho. He played the tape back to me, and I sounded like a bumbling moron.

After he finished his homework, he and his cousin drove home and so I went off to do my own homework. I wrote a story using the verbs ser and estar, based on my conversation with Erika on the plane.

If you pledged The Global Trip 2004 Pledge Drive, please email me your postal address to theglobaltrip@yahoo.com if you haven't already -- even the addresses that you think I know by heart.

AOL IM USERS, FYI: Even though most of the places I go have internet, I'm discovering that most don't have AOL Instant Messenger (and Quick Buddy doesn't work). However, MSN Messenger is on almost every computer, with Yahoo Messenger in second. My MSN name is theglobaltrip@hotmail.com