Friday-- first quiteño day

Quito's historic center is a jumbled mass of hills, most with stunning churches or colonial buildings barely clutching onto the steep slopes. I arrived by bus and was stunned by this maze, that drivers lurch through undaunted and vendors haunt at every corner. Old men occupy all the benches of the squares. Kids run after pigeons at the Plaza de la Independenzia. It's an amazing haven-- especially compared to some of the other parts of Quito-- and the largest remaining colonial center in Latin America.

Friday-- Quito in a few snaps

View from the top of the Basilicia (after three outside ladders and a passage through the attic above the actual church. Definitely my most exciting visit of any religious site).

Family love.

Adorable boy who was walking his dog Toby in front of the Basilica.

I admit to panting on the walk up this road....

Overheard in Quito, I

"Nos vemos en la Amazonia"
- Teen on cellphone in Quito street. ("We'll see each other in the Amazon")

Lost in translation, I

At the fruteria (fruit stand)
Me, in a morning, coffeeless haze: Plata, por favor.

Platano= banana
Plata= money

FAIL.

The count

TWENTY FIVE, cents a bus ride in Quito. Bumps guaranteed, seats not so much.

EIGHTEEN EIGHTY-TWO: date of completion of the Basilica del vote nacional. It is partly built of volcanic rock and boasts stone statues of turtles and monkey instead of gargoyles. Ecuadoran pride.

FIVE THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE, approximate number of internet cafes in Quito.

Overheard in Quito, II

Conversation with my Spanish teacher:

Me: The weather here is crazy, it changes every second.
Teacher: Yes, its like women!

Vocabulario

CHEVERE- A must if you aim to survive in Ecuador. Literally "great", it is crammed into every sentence. Also, CHEVEROSO and CHEVERISSIMO.

GRINGOLANDIA- Affectionate (?) nickname for Mariscal, the tourist hangout. Befittingly, both my host family and school are located in Gringolandia...

CORREISTA- A supporter of Rafael Correa, the president.

The Wisdom's on the Wall

Despite their visual pollution, the majority of graffiti I've seen in Quito has been rather feminist, inspirational or just weird.

"What would democracy be like without money?"

"Te quiero mi nina bonita"/ "I like/love/want you beautiful girl". Taken from a song.

"The feminist revolution is underway." OH YES!

"Women, organized, will never be prostituted" (please someone offer a better translation!!)

"The conscience of the people doesn't change the conscience of the state."

Andes, for real

This blog finally lives up its name-- I actually feasted my eyes upon the Andes this weekend. With Ecuadorian friends of a friend, we drove up to 4000 metres to camp, walk and fish (well, some of us.) It was like a passage to another world. Part of my amazement may be attributed to my slight dizziness at being so high up, but the incredible stretches of deserted tundra-- save for some wild horses and llamas-- or the peaks towering over us definitely account for most of it. About fifteen of us spent the night in a straw hut, without electricity, cellphone coverage or neighbors. Blissful.

Eyes on the Alps once more

This is my first entry written from Switzerland, Europe, the Northern Hemisphere. Still faced with recurrent sickness and general weakness after three days in hospital, I decided to abridge my trip by two weeks. I knew I wasn't going to heal in Ayacucho, and, worse, could infect the children. So after a pretty grueling journey-- I spent 12 full hours in Lima airport, come to me for any information on flights or cafes-- I finally reached Switzerland.

This amputated return definitely is not representative of the three amazing, challenging and varied months I spent in South America. From studying verbs in Quito to hiking up Machu Picchu, I've fallen pretty brutally in love with the continent. Although I only discovered Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, I've never felt so entranced by a language, an incredible mix of cultures and devastatingly beautiful scenery. I know I'll be back. In a month, I'll begin working in Argentina, which will be a wholly different experience, but one I am already awaiting (and crossing my fingers that the rugged football team triumphs in the World Cup).

After so much time on the road, I feel both the urge to and the impossibility of summing up my trip. As with most travelling, I feel my horizons have been vastly opened, as has my self-knowledge. Rarely have I felt so amazed, so challenged and so blessed. Oddly, the best way to describe my trip is through the metaphor of Avatar. Yes, the Hollywood blockbuster. Here is why:

1. The first time I saw Avatar, it was with my lovely host mother in Quito, Ecuador. She was aghast that I hadn't seen it yet, so invited me to a fancy multiplex to indulge in the 3D adventure, complete with popcorn and coke. It was comfortable, familial and fun. This basically sums up my leisurely stay in the Ecuadorian capital, where I had a daily routine that swayed between my adorable host family, language school and friends.
2. But my second viewing of the film was quite different. During the 10 hour bus trip from Trujillo to Lima, the bus assistant switched on the tiny TV screen to show us Avatar. I was sitting with a Peruvian friend I had met that same day, and we watched the German-subtitled film as we cruised through the Peruvian desert. This showing is symbolic of my month spent criss-crossing Peru: always in movement, often with a foreign tint (german subtitles= hordes of tourists) and a bumpy yet enjoyable ride.
3. I'm not sure my third witnessing of Avatar even counts as such. In the volunteer house in Ayacucho, one of my Peruvian roommate was film-obsessed. So one night, as I lay huddled in my sleeping bag, coughing and feverish, he decided to watch the film. I attempted to watch too, but my ears were ringing and I ended up fast asleep. Sadly, this is representative of my last two weeks in Peru-- I was basically too sick to enjoy anything.

A few of my favourite pictures from the trip:



Mountains hiding Machu Picchu, Peru, taken on Day 3 of my trek. Called 'apus' in Quechua, which means 'sacred mountains', their size, intense green and stoic silence indeed appeared sacred. I was constantly stunned (probably the most overused word on this blog) by the natural beauty of the Andean region.




Nuns watching a religious procession in Cuenca, Ecuador. As I was present during Semana Santa, the holy week leading up to Easter, I witnessed many, many scenes of worship. It was humbling to see the strength of the devotion of nearly an entire population. Also fascinating was to see how the Catholic faith is intertwined with the traditional Inka one, in a mixed form called Andino.



One of my favourite encounters during my travels. This typist in Trujillo, Peru, works every day in front of the court house, writing up letters for people in need. He has been doing so for 18 years. His stare was almost as intense as the speed of his fingers on the typer.




What can I say, kids are adorable. This little boy was being wheeled around the market in Otavalo, Ecuador by his mother.



A quiet street in Copacabana, Bolivia, a charming town basking on the side of the incomparable Lago Titicaca.


Thank you for taking the time to read this blog-- and indeed this novel-sized post. I deeply appreciated it. Un beso, Alejandra.

Pills and co.

I never imagined blogging about the rowdy scene inside a Peruvian doctor's waiting room, but imaginable circumstances have granted me this special insight. I fell ill on Friday, first a common but violent stomach bug. It slowly generated into a cough, cold, fever, shivers, nausea, dizziness and general incapacity to do anything. So I finally decided to get an appointment with the doctor who visits the kids where I work-- so, yes, a pediatrician. It had been a while.

As in the majority of places, the benches were filled with unwell kids and anxious parents. Oh, and the well siblings who had discovered the candy sold in the waiting room. Incongruity number one-- if you wanted a chocolate bar to assist your lengthy wait, just go up to the nurse with your coins. But she may be too busy watching the telenovela projected in their little office. That said, Pedro's moving ploy to win Francesca back was quite captivating.

The staff was actually extremely efficient and capable despite the seeming lack of order. I have an acute sinusitis, former stomach bug and skin rash from the dust here. As we're changing seasons, the nights are extremely dry and many other have fallen sick as well. I'm still not thumping with energy, but am casting my vote in a fix before I feel like I really won't have contributed any work here.

Overheard in Ayacucho

As I was walking home from-- where else -- the pharmacy, a few kids approach me: "Could you use this bamboo stick to help us make that fruit fall from the tree?"

Lost in Translation

Fellow volunteer, about her childhood: Cuando era niño...
Erm, that would be niña.

Vocabulario

LECHE DE TIGRE-- Tiger milk, anyone? Sorry to disappoint, but this juice contains neither milk nor tiger. It's lime juice-based, and used in ceviche, the national seafood dish.
CHINO/A, CHINITO/A-- Chinese, or little Chinese. It doesn't matter if your ancestors hail from Japan or Indonesia, if you have a trace of Asia still visible, your nickname is predestined. The term definitely does not have the pejorative connotations that it has in many other languages.

The wisdom is on the wall

"We don't know each other."

Power of la pelota

On Friday, when strolling around Ayacucho, I spotted the panini sticker collection album for the World Cup 2010 on sale. I know, it's lame. But I bought it, and suddenly at least seven little kids came rushing down and asked if they could stick the photos in for me. Of course I let them-- but also teased them a little as Peru didn't qualify. It was truly hilarious as the swarm seemed to emerge out of nowhere.

Marketed prison

The artisan market of Ayacucho is housed in an ancient prison, that has been significantly spruced up since its former usage. There are still towering iron gates and high walls, but the alpaca ponchos are definitely new. That said, I could possibly pass an eternity meandering through the stalls...

Tourist fever

It had to happen. But being hit, full-swing, by a severe case of the gringo-illness wasnt fun. Two days of no talking due to an incapable throat(may have relieved some people, no food and basically no walking. Of course, this happened the same day as I was asked by another volunteer if I had fallen sick here, and semi-proudly answered that I hadn't. But, with a little determination-- and a lot of antibiotics-- I think I'm on the mend.

Details of Ayacucho

This city is wonderfully charming, both in the center and the outskirts-- though vastly different. It's core is well-groomed, colourful and lively. But as soon as you crunch yourself into a cramped bus to climb the sloping hills that hold the city captive, the scenery changes dramatically. The ride turns into a roller coaster, as the roads have more potholes than cars. Farmers regroup to sell their produce-- also known as potato-- by the side of the dusty streets. Old men linger at the portals of their homes, watching something (have yet to discover) during the afternoon heat. Sheep use the alleys as catwalks, prancing down without any owners in sight.







Sunday animation in the center-- dancing to cumbia, of course.

The wisdom is on the wall

"Socios del olvido." "Members of the oblivion."