Landing In The Second Dimension: Life In A Billboard Picture
{If this post cuts short, it will mean that my ride has come to ferry me back to the motel. They gave me an hour and a half and I´ve spent most of it checking my emails. Not to fear, I´ll continute later when I can get back to town.}
All night long, I was composing this blog and then I wrote it in my journal this morning. So I shall simply copy. Things have evolved a bit since then.
Almost in the way of fore-destination, I was speaking of the First and Second Dimensions with a fellow named Marco on the bus. He´s a structural engineer and not an IGF, but at least a little bit curious about what lies behind the world. I described my idea of the First Dimension as being a single point, a dot, (no heighth, no width, only depth) not even possible for us to imagine occupying. The Second Dimension would be represented by a flat line-drawing, or a picture with heighth and width, but no depth. Our Third Dimension is known and comfortable to us, but what is the Fourth, or the Fifth? And how would it feel to live there? What about above that? No one much takes their possibility even seriously.
Well, I have to say that this Loro Verde Resort in Puerto Quito, Ecuador seems to be in the Second Dimension, though of course, it exist in the Third. I chose it on the basis of its glossy PR flyer with many attractive photographs of glamorous swimming pools, gleaming dining terraces, jungle and river backdrops, the promise of included expeditions, and cloud forest remoteness and seclusion. A great Ecuadorian authentic experience and only three hours out of Quito by bus. $50 per day, in advance, was steep for me but that included all food and excursions, so I decided to sign up for four days to escape the disco noise pollution of any city I might land in over the weekend.
Well, if one has ever gazed at a fancy billboard or a magazine ad and wished they could just step inside of it and have that life for themselves, I´m here to tell you that it would probably feel a lot like this. All show and nothing behind the scenes. Erika, at the booking agency in Quito, told me that someone would meet me at the gas station where the bus was to let me off. I imagined being then driven deep into the cloud forest. But, the bus stopped a little past the station and I was preparing to raise my ever-heavier pack and slog over there, when, to my utter surprise, I saw a huge Loro Verde sign immediately across the street over a large motel/restaurant complex. Surely, this can´t be IT??? But, I crossed the busy two-lane highway to inquire and, sure enough, I was THERE! They were expecting me.
It was Alejandro, a teenaged boy, who led me back along the gleaming terrace – the same as in the flyer, beside the three blue round swimming pools, also shown. But…but….but….nobody said it was next to a roaring highway…..
No one speaks English here but he waved towards the rear of the property, saying “Rio.” “Some river!” I thought, when I saw the drainage ditch he seemed to be refering to. Later, another teenager, Estil, walked me about three blocks back through a giant palmetto lane, across the rest of the resort property containing a soccer field, rental cabins, another pool, and a genuine, swiftly-flowing river complete with rapids. There is no boat put-in here, but well downriver, away from this property.
I was so very tired from another wakeful night of alarm clock distrusting and an early bus to catch, that I decided to nap after lunch. That meal of yellow rice and shrimp was good, though way too much to consume at one sitting, and it´s been the last good food I´ve had here. Meals are part of my fifty per day cost.
Taking stock of my room, I noted a double bed and a bunk bed with an upper and lower, tucked into an alcove. I also noticed a broken slat on the louvered blinds, letting light shine right into my eyes, and I registered the fact that there was almost no furniture with flat surfaces to lay your stuff out upon or drawers to unpack into. Only a small TV stand. The bathroom floor had a permanent puddle that seemed to come from a leaking pipe behind the wall. It also had no lightbulb – a remediable flaw. While I napped on the double bed, I became aware of a dreadful smell. Two, actually. One came from the sheets, pillow, and bedding which were of the cheapest polyester, used by far too many heavily-sweating bodies.
The other smell was some weird variety of cigarette smoke floating through my open window and generated by an odd couple who were now sitting at “my” table opposite my motel-room-type door. She looked like a black Nefertiti and he, a white aryan. They turned out to be hourly guests who must have signed in for a four-hour stretch and were now socializing over beer and a smoke before consumating the transaction. Before I clued into this fact, I went over and introduced myself, saying I was glad to see that I wasn´t the only guest here. Introductions and handshakes and then the truth dawns. A little more light conversation before I excused myself and returned to my book. As they were checking out and I was eating dinner at “my” table, they came over and shook hands goodbye, wishing me well on my journeys. Ya meet all sorts along the way and I´ll bet that´s the first time they might have been treated like fellow hostel guests, though what do I know?
Things have gone downhill since then. Supper was a dreadful ham and cheese sandwich in a terrible croissant (apparently their only bread)…as I wasn´t hungry after the massive lunch. But, I did want tasty. I also discovered that there is no hot water. The shower has a single tap, so I had to go into the hot tub, which they had fired up for me, fortunately, for any sort of a soapless wash. Then, the mosquitoes came out, but that´s nature.
I spent the night on a sheetless lower bunk with my own pillow and sleeping bag and my mosquito net draped about. Not smelly. Not too bad. The highway noise didn´t bother me after all and I slept pretty well. The rain started in the night but seems concluded now. Oh yes, here´s another cronky fact. The dog here is an Alaskan Husky/Samoyed, white, with dual-colored eyes, by the name of Osa. The poor baby had the great misfortune to be born in the totally wrong climate for him. He carries his thick, rich fur coat forever in this humidity. No wonder he swims in the river every chance he gets, as Alejandro pointed out. He´s well enough trained not to go in those cool blue swimming pools and he´s such a sweetheart that he got most of my terrible croissant.
There are adults also involved in the management of this place – Mary and Betty- but the teen boys do a gracious job of running the place. No one is aware of the uncomfortable flaws….and now that I have walked into Puerto Quito itself, I´d have to say that I´m doing very well indeed to have landed where I did. This is a universe where mold grows from the inside out to meet the jungle green growth that is coming from the outside in. I now count my blessings. Another close analogy for this situation would be that of trying to settle into a life on a movie set. Looks great on the outside, but there´s nothing behind the scenes and nothing actually works or feels comfortable for use.
Ah well, what to do? Fuss and holler and get my money back? Maybe, but I´ll first see what happens if I try to work within the situation. Change here isn´t easy, and I don´t know yet where to go or how. One thing is for sure, I should get lots of reading and writing done, as there is not much else unless the sun comes out to make swimming and sunbathing attractive. (It has.) And, then guess what? There´s nothing to sit or lounge upon beside the pool. Just the bare terrazzo deck. Go figure!
My tablecloth is moldy!
Tags: 1, 2nd dimension, Puerto Quito Ecuador, Tag Index
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