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Top Ten, Ecuadorian Style

Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007

Quito is a marvelous city: it has great public transportation (a trolley!), walkable streets, a beautifully kept-up colonial district that has managed to remain a center of daily QuiteƱo life instead of a tourist trap, and hot showers. But, because it’s so great, nothing very bad or very interesting has happened to us here. So, to continue our great blogging tradition in times of lull, here is a random Top Ten list of interesting tidbits that have not made it onto our blog so far:

1) Riding on a bus to La Mitad Del Mundo, we spotted the following block-letter graffiti, in English: “Black People.” Yup, just “Black People,” nothing else. It reminds me of a kid from Wesleyan who wore a shirt with magic marker-writing proclaiming “Eco-Feminism” (yup, just “Eco-Feminism”) just to, as she said, “let people know it’s out there.” Or, perhaps the “Black People” graffiti is in protest to the used-book shop named “Confederate Books” that is a few blocks from our hotel.

2) At La Mitad Del Mundo (the equator), really funny things happen. For one, you can balance a raw egg on the head of a nail. For two, water will drain directly down without swirling to one side or the other. For three, if you do competitions of strength on the equator line and off the equator line, differences in strength will be magnified the farther you are from the precise middle of the world. For four, you weigh less on the equator. How cool is that?

3) On our travels, we have run into approximately ten Spaniards. Based on our rather limited sample, we have made an observation: all Spaniards have mullets, unless they are from Basque Country. If the Spanish people are on the cutting edge of fashion, you can expect to see innumerable fashion mullets in the coming years.

4) We did not get sunburned in Nicaragua, where the sun was scalding and the temperatures averaged 85-90 degrees. We did not get sunburned in Panama, despite similar heat and sun. We did, however, get horribly sunburned at the equator, where it was cloudy and 65 degrees. Megan’s legs still hurt.

5) When Sarah was in Xela, Guatemala (a little late, but bear with me), she ran into a girl she knew in Ithaca but had not seen for 6 years. This girl was dating a Spanish teacher at Sakribal. Small world…

6) The Sarmat Porter that Megan was so excited about had expired on 1/15/2005. It turns out that Ukrainian beer doesn’t have much of a market in Ecuador.

7) The Panama City Airport really sucks. In addition to not having any magazine stores, they took Megan’s swiss army knife, broke our camera, and made us forget that we had brought Snickers with us. It is the worst airport in the world.

8) However, COPA airlines is great! They serve you an actual snack, consisting of a sandwich and chips, and offer you free alcohol.

9) Within the space of two days, both Megan’s and Sarah’s backpack clasp shattered. Megan’s broke on the cab ride with the Peace Corps girl, and Sarah’s broke in the Panama City Airport (worst airport ever). These clasps are the important waist strap clasps that allow you to heft the weight of your bag with your hips instead of your shoulder.

10) We shared a room with a very strange French guy. He arrived at 5 pm, immediately lay down on the top bunk, and did not move. At some point, he smoked a joint, still lying on the top bunk. He said maybe three words then entire night and left the next morning at 10. At least he wasn’t sporting a mullet.

-Megan (with help from Sarah)

Fun Cab Trips

Saturday, January 20th, 2007

Cab Ride Numero Uno:

Our adventures in Panama City started with a little help from an eager Peace Corps volunteer. Apparently, the Peace Corps can place you in a Caribbean archipelago to work on sustainable agriculture even if you have a degree in English! Sign me up. True to form, this peace corps volunteer was helpful and enthusiastic — she offered to help us get into the city, waited for us to get through loooong customs lines, and secured us a cab (which Sarah then bargained down). On the way, we picked up a Pennsylvanian who had recently re-located to Panama to work in real estate who informed us of several things: 1) “people prefer to work with American-trained salesmen…” 2) “I wish they would get a Wal-Mart down here!” and 3) “I go to TGI Fridays every week.” It was a little tense, what with the Peace Corps volunteer in the front seat.

After we dropped off the Pennsylvanian at his swanky apartment, things got complicated. Our peace corps volunteer, still trying to help, informed our cab driver that we were going to the bus terminal with her. Unfortunately, we weren’t. We tried to explain that we wanted to be dropped off in a different neighborhood, which was on the way, but this was too much for the cabbie. They got into a little spat, and the peace corps volunteer told us we should probably just get out and find another cab. In the end, thanks to the peace corps volunteer (who really was very nice), we ended up on the side of an unknown road, at night, with all our gear, in the middle of Panama City, paying for two cabs instead of one. This seems to be an apt metaphor for certain aspects of the peace corps — nice, eager to please volunteers who don’t know that much more than you do, just trying to help, eventually leave you stranded. (Don’t get me wrong, she really was very nice.)

Cab Ride Numero Dos

In between cab rides, we shopped in fancy stores, cheap stores, and lots of air conditioned malls. We also saw the “8th modern marvel of the world” (the Panama Canal), complete with huge boats, smarmy museum exhibits, and a poorly done PR video. We also saw Children of Men. Which (sorry Aja) we found utterly forgettable. But you can’t beat a modern metropolis for air conditioning, movies, and consumerism! Also, it doesn’t suck to end each night sipping $.75 beers in an outdoor cafe watching world class soccer projected onto a giant wall.

Our side trip out of the modern metropolis and into Panama Viejo (the ruins of Old Panama) brings us to our next cab ride. Hungry, exhausted, and too weary to find the bus back into town, we hailed a fancy-looking Ford taxi. This cab ride was much less eventful than the first, but we had to include it because our cab driver moonlighted as a Secret Service Officer for the President. How cool is that? He even showed us his badge.

Cab Ride Numero Tres

Our third and final cab ride in Panama City took us to the Panama City airport. Though this cab ride was in no way interesting, we found it necessary to detail the ways in which the Panama City Airport sucks. Oh, how it sucks. First of all, there is only one, horrendously overpriced restaurant. We’re talking $12 breakfasts. Second of all, out of the HUNDREDS “Duty Free Stores” with designer perfume, liquor, and handbags, there was not a SINGLE book, newspaper, or magazine to be found. What!? My only joy in airports is reading fashion magazines without buying them, while drinking scalding coffee and eating a yeasty bagel. How dare they deny me what is rightfully mine! It was a long, long morning, most of it spent grumbling and trying to think of who we could complain about the airport to. We decided we’d complain to you. Letter-writing campaign, anyone?

Cab Ride Numero Cuatro

This ride took us from the Quito airport to our hotel. And here we are. The best thing about Quito so far? Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse, Spaten Oktoberfest, and Sarmat Porter, found in a random corner store. I’ll give you my tasting notes tomorrow.

-Megan (with help from Sarah)