A week in Otavalo

Nine days actually, but who’s counting. A first for us, being in one place for so long is an interesting change of pace. Kind of like just living somewhere, we ran out of groceries (and rum, which is cheap here!) several times and had to dash out to the corner store to get that one missing ingredient for dinner. We know all the staff by name (Rosalita is our fav), know that the pananderia two blocks away is better than the one next to the hostal, and we know where to get 80-cent French fries when I’m craving something good and tasty (which is pretty much all the time). Amy has a favourite street connection for 30-cent beer nuts. All in all, it’s been a great opportunity to get grounded and become acquainted with all things Ecuadorian. The most enjoyable activity, of course, has been simply wandering around and taking in the indigenous vibe. We aren't sure yet, but they may be the smallest people on the planet. Believe it or not, I can always tell where Amy is. She's the tallest person in the crowd!

Fascinating distractions aside, the main missions here in Otavalo were (1) spanish lessons, and (2) the markets. Both missions were accomplished to varying degrees, with the Spanish thing being the lesser accomplished. Hard to believe, I know, but after 5 lessons, neither of us is fluent in Spanish. However, progress has been made, and I now realize that “Buenos nachos, mi llamo es cerveza” is a strange thing to say (trans: good nachos, my name is beer). The lessons have been great, if not exhausting. Four hours of one-on-one is pretty intense (with a break for coffee and empanadas). At the end of each session, we both agree on a mutual feeling that one’s head is going to explode and rain Spanish all over the room. Perhaps at our advanced age (mine anyway) there just isn’t any more room in our brains for new information? Time will tell. We’ll see if we improve as we head deeper into the wilds of Latin America. Pienso que si.

 El Mercado did, as advertised, go ballistic on Saturday. It’s not just a market, but rather, the entire town seems to go into market mode with every street being converted to market stalls, and the open spaces around town filled with every kind of furry beast, big or small, you might want to load up on Noah’s Arc. For you Nelsonites, it’s marketfest on steroids. The animal markets get interesting as you wander through the list: cows, check, horses, check, pigs, check, goats, check, chickens, check, quail, uhhh ok, bunnies, hmmm sure, guinea pigs....guinea pigs? huh!? Yep, seems like the fine folks of these parts have an affection for guinea pigs, not because they are cute and cuddly and make a nice pet for the kids, but rather because that ummmm-good guinea pig taste really comes out when you bar-b-que them. Known as cuy, we have yet to try this local specialty. We aren’t that hungry yet J

 Amy has been in her element with el Mercado. The Christmas gifts are bought, boxed, and mailed (her’s anyway). Mailing market items from places like this is an interesting irony. The postage costs 4 times more than the items. But hey, you just can’t pass up that handmade alpaca wool poncho for 10 bucks.

 Last Spanish session tomorrow, one last walk around town, one last Cuba Libre coctele in the courtyard, and then we ride for Quito, the nation’s capital in the heart of the Andes. Despite the luxury of our current situation, and the fantastic break it has been, it will be good to get back on the bikes. We’re starting to get a bit soft, and getting a little too comfortable for our own good. Shockingly (not), the elevation profile  for the 114-km ride to Quito indicates we climb, then go way down, then climb back up another 1000 m. Looks like another 2-day mission with a strategic overnight just before the final climb into Quito. That’s the plan anyway. Chao.

 (incidentally, you might have noticed that I signed off with ciao in a previous post. That’s the Italian spelling. In Spanish, it’s chao or even chau. $6.50/hr for lessons is paying off!).