The Mighty Q

Shopping Needed

2010-11-02T21:16:00.000-07:00

A pretty great day overall, though food today, while relatively healthy was definately on the boring side. On the bright side, there were highlights of fresh fruit, though - mango! pluot! apples!

Lunch was simply greens with clover sprouts and some grilled chicken. On the side, the roasted acorn squash with a touch of honey was delightful. My favorite spin instructor was back after being out for a month (!), so a hard workout (despite incredibly sore legs from weights yesterday) left me hungry in the afternoon which led me to more yogurt...with honey! Twice in one day, a girl has got to have her pleasures.

In an after-work indulgence, I did sample a few sweet potato fries with my amber, mildly hoppy micro-brew. Dinner (on the late side, due to 1.5 hours at the voting poles) was chicken andoille sausages accompanied by a large portion of sauteed spinach and sundried tomatoes, seasoned with sea salt and cayenne pepper.

The chicken sausage (a trader joes-keep-it-in-freezer-emergency food) had only recognizable ingredients, and only 5 ingredients at that (chicken, evaporated cane sugar...and a couple other things). Pretty impressive for a sausage!

Inspired

2010-11-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

I was browsing blogs yesterday, for probably the first time ever. And I became inspired. Now, I am not a writer, nor do I consider myself creative. But there is that saying: "Life is not about finding yourself, but about creating yourself." So, here I am. Finding a creative outlet. Developing a new aspect of my personality. Forcing myself to be more open. Now, something I think I am great at is living a great life. I love food, travel and friends. I love being active. I love, love, love biking. I love living in San Francisco and in California. And, sometimes, I love thinking about how I can be more than I am now.

Right now, though, I have to head off to work. I have cup of freshly roasted french-press prepared coffee from Uganda in my hand. I just ate a cup of greek yogurt with mango (from the local tienda, of course). I had hoped to sprinkle a few toasted pecans or slivered almonds with it, but Trader Joe's hasn't happened in a couple weeks.

The sun is shining. Now GO VOTE.

Best store on earth!!

2006-04-04T21:09:00.000-07:00

So I don't think I ever mentioned that my new abode is less then 1.5 blocks away from the Salvation Army. Previously in life I have been slightly obcessed with Ross. But I have moved on now. Reuse reuse recycle. It was my first day in the new hood, and much to the disappointment of my caffeine addicted-two hours awake without coffee-aching- head, I did not have a coffee pot or grinder, and thought this would be just the thing to purchase at SA. I kid you not, I am in love with the woman behind the counter. I got the names of the last three people she had slept with, learned all about her eating likes and dislikes, and then, and this is truly wonderful, got the grinder out of the staff kitchen. -- I did feel a little bad about this, but she said nobody had used it for over half a year - and in fact when I was asking the employees about a grinder, my favorite woman was the only one that knew. And the next one that comes in she said she will just put back there again. A book, grinder, maker and 1. 5 hours of entertainment, all for $15. Not bad.

Take this!

2006-04-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

I'm going to defenestrate you!

Defenestrate: To throw out a window.

I am not angry. But that is one hell of a fantastic word. I can defenestrate trash too, but that is illegal you know.

Crafty Sea Lion Befuddles Fish Biologists

2006-03-31T18:41:00.000-08:00

What a fantastic headline. I love crafty critters - though so deserving of such a better name then C404. I think we should call him Hank.

Hank the Crafy Sea Lion Befuddles Fish Biologists. -- How do you like dem apples?

Crafty Sea Lion Befuddles Fish Biologists

No Metering Lights Required

2006-03-28T15:02:00.000-08:00

Some food for thought. Now if only they would construct the Bay Bridge so that the bike lane will get you farther than halfway across the bay.

"It takes two lanes of a given size to move 40,000 people acrossa bridge in one hour by using modern trains, four to move themby buses, twelve to move them in their cars, and only one lanefor them to pedal across using bicycles."-- Ivan Illich, "Energy and Equity," 1973

Note: This does not account for "Blazing Saddles" riders that stop with their bikes in a horizontal position across the aforementioned lane.

Top 10 Quotes from our Landlord

2006-03-28T13:10:00.000-08:00

So having recently moved, I have also acquired a new landlord. Now, the old landlord was a bit sketchy, and deserves a page all to himself. This one suffers from either a)personality disorder or b) jackass disorder. Here is a sample:

10 Top Quotes from our New Landlord (predominantly prior to move in)

1. "Don't talk, Don't try to do the thinking for me! I do the thinking!"
2. " If you keep talking I'm just going to hang up on you!"
3. "You're wasting my time"
4. "I'm having a shitty week and you're just adding to it. Stop Thinking! I do the thinking here!”
5. “Let’s not start a legal battle here!” (When asking for the garage door opener)
6. “I don’t want to be put in the crossfire!”
7. “I can’t put the painters in the crossfire!”
8. “You’re asking to be put in the crossfire!” (All in regards to asking to move our couch into our vacant unit 3 days early)
9. “I need to be there. Two sets of eyes are better than one - And by that I mean my eyes are better than yours. You won’t know if the car fits in the spot or not. You need my eyes!”
10. “Are you sure your roommates know the meaning of “mandatory?”
11. Bonus: “Do you think Melanie will be able to handle screwing in the lightbulb? I helped her screw in the lightbulb the other day. I think she got the hang of it.”

Only 86 days away!

2006-03-27T10:41:00.000-08:00

Only 86 days until Summer Solstice everyone! Get your Summer Solstice Celebration dances ready!

Soundtrack

2006-03-09T15:10:00.000-08:00

So the other day I got a phone message from an old friend of mine - Kate, who is the bomb. And it was one of those where I was listening to the message and laughing so hard that my roommates in the other room had to inquire what in the world I was doing by myself that was so funny. I had a smile plastered to my face for the next hour I think. And I still get a smile when I think of her message. These are things you want to make a soundtrack of life with, ya know? You have got to keep the quality people of life in the pocket at all times.

A New Hobby

2006-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

So after 3.5 years I am moving out of my apartment, a sad day. My choice, and and I am stoked about the new place, but the end of an era if you will. But I digress. I wanted to share with you what should be everybody's pasttime. Posting to Craigslist. And I don't mean to sell concert tickets, throw your resume up there, or even under the Rants section.

Put your apartment up there (you don't need to tell them this is an experiment), make sure you make it decently cheap so that you get a lot of responses. It is AMAZING what people write back. You could do a whole psychology experiment in what people choose to disclose about themselves and their methods of getting them to contact you. Really. If I had not gotten so many responses so quickly, forcing me to take down the ad, since I did actually need to find someone, it is all I would have done last week. I think if I go back to school for psycholgy, I will definately have to do my thesis on this.

A Happy Place

2006-03-06T12:13:00.000-08:00

So my friend/co-worker commented the other day that the bike shop seems to be my happy place. In fact, it was less like a comment and more stated as accepted fact -- so off the cuff, along the lines of "You have the bike shop, I need to find a happy place."

At first, I was a little put off, thinking that it sounds like a positive spin on Bike Shop Groupie. Not a huge fan of that spin. But maybe I should embrace it - and its true. I like learning about bikes, and being around bikes, being around people talking about bikes, and hell, bike shop guys are generally pretty cool, so isn't a bike shop a better happy place then, say a local bar? And more productive? Well, granted the productive argument could be up for debate given your learning curve of bike mechanic skills . But if, for example, you hurt your knee, and lose that quality one on one time with your riding partner ("Jake" in my case), working on bikes fills as a nice substitute perhaps.

The Day of Love

2006-02-16T07:55:00.000-08:00

Valentines Day, it is really such a funny holiday when you think about it. It’s kind of like a random declaration of everybody’s birthday. Now, of course, traditionally, it is supposed to be a day to celebrate with your romantic other, but then again I have always received cards, cookies and the like from my mom, grandma and friends. And lets not forget that as precious little school tots we all dedicated a day of art class to making a mailbox to collect valentines, and then would give a really cool Hot Wheels or Barbie or Transformers Valentines Day card to all the classmates. So really I think the day is just about love. And I think it is great. Everybody is in a good mood, you see lines of guys on the streets buying flowers for someone special, it’s really hard to get a dinner reservation, it’s a day of celebration, if you will. I went do dinner with a good friend, drank too much Sangria and made my way home, so far less booty than I am sure a good number of people were getting, but not less of a good time. And I passed out home-baked muffins in cute little heart-papered bags to some of the special people in my life. What a great day. A hallmark holiday to be sure, but really, if you need a reminder button to help you to remember to demonstrate a little love and affection, is it all that bad? Sometimes we all need a little zap.

On the same reminder-button-of-positive-things-in-life note, Manu Chao sings a song, “Me Gustas Tu,” where he is just listing all the things he likes: the sea, cinnamon, planes, wind, and the list goes on. I hope he listens to the song when he is in a bad mood, or to compound a good mood for that matter. Really, wouldn’t it be great to have your own little melody to bebop to as you are walking down the street that just lists all of your favorite things? I am working on mine now.

My Sis is Engaged!

2005-12-31T11:20:00.000-08:00

Imran and Bridget, after years of being friends, and then, well, more than friends obviously got engaged last week! Congrats guys!

Espuma, #2

2005-12-05T15:44:00.000-08:00

Classic Meg. Really. Ok. Sometimes I think I am really not ok in life. So on Saturday I had decided that I was going to put my bike on a bus for a few hours (on top), then get off and ride back to Panachel, since biking through the countryside is what I do in life. (I got the idea of the route from this guy that was biking from Colorado, down to where I met him in Antigua. His original plan was to go all the way to Costa Rica, but was on his way to the Internet cafe to a) book a ticket home and b) tell his friends he wasn´t going all the way to Costa Rica). He also pretty much convinced that I should start racing Cat 5 this year, which I have been seriously considering. Anyway, back to the story at hand.

I get back to Pana (it was a beautiful ride, though a lot shorter than I had anticipated), and run into this guy (Costa Rican, incidently), that I had met the night before, and we had plans to meet up Saturday evening for a beer or whatever. So I, of course, am sweaty, and on my bike, but there is no way out of saying hello, and figure, hell, I probably don´t look that different than I do half the time down here (my lack of femininity down here even I feel has escalated...there will be a manicure, blowdrying of hair, application of makeup, and something other than the one pair of pants I have on my return to SF...but do people really wear heels to Zeitgeist?? Hmmm).

So we (the guy I am supposed to meet up with that night) are talking for awhile (10 minutes in Spanish can feel like approximately 867 years in English sometimes, especially when being attacked by hunger), and then I realize, because he actually points out, that I happen to have dried spit, espuma, if you will, all across my cheek. Sweet. Hot.

That would be my second blog entry on spit.

At least this time its my spit? I scrubbed my face profusely Saturday evening, for the record (though I had some mishaps with the shower, causing minor explosions of both water and jolts of electricity and doused the entire bathroom in freezing cold water), and then put on that same pair of pants and same long sleeved shirt and headed out. Saturday night was really fun, though. And since in my village of San Antonio, there are no bars, cafes or restaurants (or women on the streets past 8), I was pretty excited for the big night out, if you will.

Melongeon -Trivia Quiz

2005-12-05T15:40:00.000-08:00

So I had never heard of this group of people living in the Appalachian mountains (read in a Bill Bryson novel). He described it as a group of people (quite marginalized) that nobody knows where they come from, but blacks with blue eyes, essentially. I, of course, googled it, only to learn that it is not quite so mysterious. Here are my findings:

http://www.geocities.com/mikenassau/what.htm

Just thought I would share my newfound knowledge. In addition, in the year 1986 Ronald Reagan was prescribed 1,862 suppositories. (Though you may want to google that as well since it comes from the same source).

Venus

2005-12-02T09:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know how Venus looks up in the States, or from a city, for that matter, but holy cow its CRAZY how bright it is! Have you guys noticed? The last two months I swear it has lit up the entire sky.

http://www.scienceblog.com/cms/venus_growing_so_bright_its_casting_shadows_9389

Wade in the Water

2005-12-02T09:27:00.000-08:00

I would like you all to picture me down among the rocks at the lake, scrubbing my laundry on the boulders. I am the only one not in traditional Mayan ´traje,´or attire. I, also, incidently, am the only one showing anything other than my ankles. Tradional attire (pattern varies by village) is a dark blue embrodered sarong, a loose fitting, embroidered squarish-blouse, a belt, and hair wrapped up in a ribbon. I speak with a few of the women in Spanish, but many of them only speak Quetchekal (NO idea how to spell that), so there is a bit of translation going on as well! I think it takes me about 87 times as long to clean anything as any of the other women, and am sure it doesnt get nearly as clean. Alas. Thank god I don't have many clothes here!

My project

2005-12-02T09:07:00.000-08:00

My volunteer project is coming along -- lots of limitations, which I expected. It is an organization that essentially helps artisan cooperatives with small business skills and then sells their stuff to clients in the States at a 'Fair Trade' price. In addition, a portion of the money goes to grade school/high school scholarships in the communties. This was pretty big for me since I think that education is the only long term soluntion. Anyway, it essentially is trying to follow the model of Transfair (Fair Trade coffee).

The organization has a TON of potential, but the director/founder is so disorganized that it is frustating. There are two other volunteers down here currently. Heather just got her MBA from the London School of Economics in Gender and Economics, or something like that. She had trouble finding a job in development (of course), and so is doing this for about 6-8 months to get a bit of experience. She has been really great, especially when I first got here. Ben was a Peace Corps volunteer, but got kicked out, but has been working anyway. He is only here until Monday, which is too bad becuase he actually lives next door to me in San Antonio, and it is nice to have someone out there. -- I am usually asleep by 9 or 10, up by 6 am, if that gives you an idea of the quietness of my life here!! Acutally, Ben has only been here for the last week or so with me becuase he had gone to Honduras for about 10 days right when I arrived pretty much. Anyway, he has been helping to oversee the cooperative in San Antonio, which gets all the huge orders (like 2500 peices), among some other stuff.

I am supposed to be doing a whole cost-price analysis, setting the prices for all the stuff and creating a catalog. Some MBA students from Wharton were down here this spring and started some spreadsheets, which I have been looking over. Some of it is really great, and some of it not so much (I can hear my manager from LECG, Stephen, in my head going on an extended tirade about how some of it is arranged!). Was getting annoyed with the syntax of one of my formulas the other day, and was thinking a) some things never change and b) it is nice to have a second pair of eyes in the cube next door sometimes! --especially since Internet was out and so I couldnt just look it up online as I prefer to do!

A lot of the problem is that I feel like work gets done and then repeated, or that Frieda (the director) has zero understanding of computers or excel, so things just get lost.

The fun part of what I am doing is when I go out to visit each of the cooperatives, which is the other half of my time! There is no way it will all be finished before I leave, however.

Anyway... that is my volunteer work in a nutshell!!

Mudslides, etc

2005-12-02T08:46:00.000-08:00

As most of you probably know, I am in the region where the mudslides hit the hardest. San Antonio (the village where I live) was definately among the villages least affected. I imagine this is due to the fact that it is at the bottom of one of the few slopes that I have not been totally or greatly deforested. This is just my theory, however. I haven't actually read enough or talked to enough people to stand by it unequivically. Roots are good. And it makes sense...wasnt (and isnt) deforestation a major factor in the all the natural disaster destruction around bangladesh/nepal? I think so. Hmm. I will endevour to do a little googling.

I bike through Santa Catarina every day (well, the days I go into Panachel, anyway). You can still see the water/mud marks on all of the buildings along the road indicating where the level of the water (about five feet high or so). When I got here, they were clearing the last of the major mudpiles from the main street.

They had just completed a tuk-tuk bridge into Pana as well, which saves me having to bike 8 - 10 miles or so out of way on my bike! --;ore like you go down into the river bed (used to be really small before the storm and is now a few hudred meters?) and then the bridge is only maybe 20 feet long (was a stream before the storm, and is again). My bike ride in, by the way, is really, really tough! I am hoping it will improve my climbing! I think the problem is mainly that well, it is all hills, but that the road is covered in dirt and stones in most places (I think attributable to the dry season as much as Stan), and every climb is directly following a sharp curve covered in, as aforementioend, dirt and stone, so cant use any of the inertia from the downhill to get up the hill. And then, of course, there are a lot of pickups, and for those of you that have expererienced drivers in developing countries, well, i like to hug the side as much as I can!! There is another cleared area in the river bed as well for cars they had just gotten when I had gotten here that everyone is really excited about. You still definately need a 4*4 or pickup to get through that though. Saw a car attempt it the other day, which got completely stuck.

The first responders such as red cross, etc are all gone for the most part, but a lot of foreingers that are living here and other smaller organizations are working to raise money to get people clothed, seedlings to plant (starvation and hunger is usually a problem that comes later, since nobody has there farms anymore, but the major food shipments are done), houses built, etc. (Let me know if you want to donate money to any cause. )

Tourism is obviously down a lot, which is a lot of what people are talking about, since it is so depended on here for money.

Things are coming along though, from what I can see. The roads are pretty good, they are working on rebuilding septic systems etc, and well, recovering in general, I suppose.

I could write a ton more about all the destruction, but I figure if you were interesetd in that you would have read it in all the papers, etc"

Two in a row!

2005-12-02T08:20:00.000-08:00

I have had running water for two days in a row now....that means two showers! In the morning! Whoohoo!! When I first got to San Antonio (my village) we generally had water in the afternoons/evenings, but never in the mornings. This was problematic if only because I had been running in the mornings. But then the schedule changed, and wasn't really a schedule any longer. Now if only it was hot....

I had been bathing in the lake, which is undeniably gorgeous. My view is of the entire lake, more or less, looking directly at Volcano Atitilan, Volcano Toliman and San Pedro. So it hasn't been too bad for a bathtub. They are still saying that the lake hasn't been tested adequately enough to ensure its safety after the storm, but people generally tend to think it is. It also is the windy/dry season, which churns the water, apparently, which is good. I figure it is not like I am drinking the stuff, ya know?

Phantoms

2005-12-02T08:15:00.000-08:00

Alright, so just to let you kids know. Upon the suggestion of a friendly reader, I changed my settings so that anyone can make comments (not registered blog users). It had been my attempt to block out spam. Alas.

Shananagans

2005-11-22T12:59:00.000-08:00

Well, I have arrived in Guatemala! After much debate, I decided to take my chances and not put Jake in a box, but rather just wheel on up to the airline counter. There was a lot of chaos at the airport. A LOT. But then, really, flight was delayed anyway due to mechanical error, so the fact that I was personally escorted all through the airport with men talking on walkie talkies and doing hand-offs of me, well, this was just a sideshow! My stars were not in alignment.

The lack of box, I have decided is not ENTIRELY my fault, you see, I extended my stay a bit in Tena in order to take part in this kayaking/biking/running race (relay...guess which leg i did). This cut down on available time. But then also, you will remember that my box was pretty smahsed in before. And then I left it at a hostel anyway for my return, but during some construction they moved it and it got a bit wet, and I just didn't want Jake to suffer more injury.

Roommate James already discussed with me a bit regarding my "shannanigans," if you will. More like a disucssion and lot of incredulous head shaking. But really, I thought about it and decided that if you consider the fact that he featured my less-than-mechanically perfect skills on HIS blog, and in fact, claims I even heated up the whole house with my mechanical endevours and considereing that Ecuador is already hot enough, I really was doing everyone a favor. That is how I think of it. His account of me preparing Jake for the journey is at http://hambonestyle.blogspot.com/2005/10/ecuador-guatemala-for-meg.html

Though, to my defense, the only grunting occured when i was trying to undo screws that, notably, i did not install. Furthermore, two guys also tried and could not get them undone, despite making their faces very red. Only THEN did James think he would bring out a different tool with more leverage. And the 6 hours included a trip or two to the store.

Jake is here, however. Alive and Kicking. Just wanted to make sure none of you were worried. And you should check out James' blog regardless, I usually find it pretty entertaining. -- Without talking to each other about it, we both started one on the same day.

Hemingway once said...

2005-11-22T12:57:00.000-08:00

"It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of acountry best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coastdown them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, whilein a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have nosuch accurate remembrance of country you have driven through asyou gain by riding a bicycle."-- Ernest Hemingway, Colliers magazine

We Won!!

2005-11-21T17:17:00.000-08:00

The kayak/bike/run/tube competition that is. Well, not won exactly, but came in third. But that still means $100 each, which is pretty good here!

It's funny, I have never done such a short race before, I think my biking section was only about 15 km or so. I felt like I was in spin class or something.

CYCYLING TRIP COMPLETE! (Kind of)

2005-11-21T13:26:00.000-08:00

Well, so after Tena I was going to have one or two more days on the bike, to Baeza and Pappecta respectively. I did not feel that I needed to climb all the way back to Quito (10,000 feet) and there were really big passes on both of these trips anyway.

Now, Tena was fantastic. I wrote about it some already, I think, and as I mentioned it is a huge mecca for white water rafting and kayaking. And there was this local competition on Saturday which was a relay of running, biking, kayaking and tubing. I think the tubing aspect was pretty funny concept, actually. Anyway, it was required that you have at least one girl compete on your team (which is actually why I think they includided the tubing...machismo latinos, if you will). So I knew about this competition, and people had been trying to get me to participate (biking, obviously) all week, and I had steadfastly refused. Biking to Baeza, was the mantra. I needed time to wrap Jake with care, which meant being back early on Sunday at the latest (7 am flight Monday), and clearly needed to bike to Baeza, since this was the orginal plan (Pappellecta was a maybe).

Well, so this guy, Jaime, that I had been hanging out with for a couple days and had been trying to get me on his team for Saturday propositioned that if I would stay for the competition on Saturday, he would bike WITH me to Baeza on Friday, we could return by bus, compete Saturday, and then I could take an early bus on sunday to Quito.

I was already slightly considering not boxing Jake, at this point. Mostly because it seemed like a headache, I thought maybe I would´'t have to, and he is more likely to be damaged in a box. And then also I could go rafting with Jaime the next day (Thurday), which was fun. And a day on the river where I would hopefully not be being beaten by one of the whirlpools was really welcome! So the plan is beginning to look pretty good. Mainly becuase (a) I think it really funny that I could pop into an event in Ecuador and (b) biking with someone definately wasn't an unpleasant alternative. Especially becuase even though I knew it was only 80 km, there was a HUGE pass and it was all really reeally bad dirt and stone road, except whwhere they were constructin cobblestone, which can be worse, I guarantee. Company is nice on hard days is my new conclusion in life!

Well, Friday morning it is POURING rain...and by pouring, I mean torrential. Sheets. Blocks. Incredible amounts. Like the worst rain storm you have ever seen. The upside was that when it rains that hard, usually it doenst rain that long. So our plans to leave at 6ish were foiled, but by 8 things were looking pretty good and we were on the road by 9 or 10.

Now, Jaime didn't realize that I had eaten breakfast, why this would influence if he does, I am still confused. But as I mentioned, it is 80 Km, all on dirt, the first 60 or so uphill. No--the first 10 were flat actually, then the next 50 were uphill. Of course I eat breakfast. So we are going along, going along, sunny day, fantastic. But he is clearly getting tired a bit too fast and early. --I have to add here that he has apparantly won all these kayaking races and championships, etc, and rightfully considers himself in really good condition I am sure, but is a bit put off that I am not feeling tired and am faster.

Breakfast would still be helpful, however. Anyway, so I end up waiting for awhile at one point (my bike most definately gives me an advantage, I am sure as well), near a store, where one could clearly get food, etc. He pulls up--we have I think gone less than 25 Km at this point, even though the last 15 were pretty tough. He is exhausted, this is not boding well. There is not much of a selection, but he declines getting anything from the restaraunt down the road, so with a few crackers and a long rest we are on our way.

A couple other stops, I am still thinking that if we plan on getting there anytime before nightfall, he better eat some breakfast, lunch something. But he thinks he's fine without food so we keep continuing on The day continues on until sometime around 4ish I'd say.

Well, it's pretty steep, and our stops are definatley getting closer together. So Jaime pulls over and gets off his bike in a little flat part in the road, where there is a bus stop-shelter thing, kind of. You can tell he is despartely in need of food-- I am in need of a little something as well (I just don't seem to carry cliff bars with me here!), but am clearly in much better state than him.

We had been told that there was a store not too far away, so thinking that we must be close, I of course offer to go and get some food and bring it back quick. After a bit, Jaime agrees that maybe this is a good plan --he is visably shaking, and getting to be pretty out of it, at this point. So I leave him, (turn back to see him laying down in the road and head up. And up. And up. I am really hoping this store is coming along soon.

Finally (well, not that long, really, but maybe 25 or 30 minutes), I see a house/shack sitting back from the road with a sign that announcing that it sells cheese! Fantastic! Not so fantastic is that it seems deserted. Well, I find the women, who quite honestly is looking at me pretty dubiously as to why I arrived here on a bike, not to mention the fact that I am covered in dirt and sweat. Always a pretty picture, I like to think.

Well, I convince her to sell me just a portion of cheese (it took a lot of convincing that I was not going to buy 2 lbs...I would give you a breakdown of the 25 minutes I ended up being at the store, and the conversations therein, becuase it is pretty entertaining, but this is already getting a bit lengthy), some canned tuna, crackers, and a couple of cokes. This was the best I could do to cover salt, sugar, carbs, protein, etc.

Off I go, back down. Now, a smarter Meghan would not have left her backpack with Jaime, but would have brought it in order to carry the food (This is why I didn{t want to purchase the 2 lbs of cheese). But, apparantly, I am not the smarter Meghan. Since it is really, really rocky, and downhill, I fully need my hands on both brakes, and it doesn't work to hang the bags from my handlebars, so instead, I tie them to my sports bra, one one each side. Though heavy and cumbersome, this works pretty well, but of course the coke is in old school glass bottles so they are clanking against eachother, and due to my positioning they are also clanking against the metal stem. Did I mention lots of rocks?

Ok, so now I attempting to careen down the damn the mountain (big ass hill? I don't know what you call it), with two black bags hanging off my front, making a racket clanging around, and what better to join me then a gang of barking dogs? 5 of them surrounding me. Sweet. A grand parade.

But I made it. I was glad to see that Jaime had moved from being sprawled in the road to the bench, which I thought was probably a good move. He initially thought I brought him back a beer, based on the banging glass, and wasn't overly impressed. But he did prove very receptive to the coke, tuna and cheese.

It was 5:30 by this time, however. Baeza wasn't going to happen, I am afraid. We watched the sun set over the hills from our perch and waited for a passing pickup or bus. A pretty entertaining day, altogether-- he was able to laugh about it as well by the time we were en route home.

Though I did leave my helmet on the bench. Damnit.

Out of Order

2005-11-13T18:40:00.000-08:00

By the way, I don´t know if you notice, but sometimes I go back and add an entry at a previous date (usually means I started writing but then ran out of time). Hopefully I will be adding phots as well at some point.

Near death.

2005-11-13T15:23:00.000-08:00

Okay, well, maybe not quite, but it was really scary. I had my second day of kaying on Wednesday, and really, I thought all was going fine. We had some rapids, not huge, but enough for me. As I mentioned, the water was really high this week due to all the rain, and was moving really fast. So I am going down the river feeling pretty good, really. It´s beautiful. I keep trying to describe it, but I just don{t think that I can do it justice. The water is absolutely transparent, and is met by all the tropical plants on the side, or sometimes cliffs, while off in the distance are the Andes, the tops rising up into the clouds.

I go into the final rapid, which is the biggest. The waves are pretty big, much, much taller than me as I am sitting in my kayak. I am having trouble keeping facing forward, but I have had this problem in many of the rapids but have still been able to maintain my balance enough not to tip. Not this time, I am afraid. I got knocked down and pushed up against the cliff. It took me some time to find the safety handle so I could get out of the kayak and above water, mostly becuase it was hard to reach due to part of the cliff jutting out at an angle that I had trouble getting my arm around.

I get up and get the air I need for about one or two seconds, but am being pushed along with the rapid, over some rocks I think and into a hole. Or a whirlpool, I am not really sure which. Scary as all hell. You are being held under water, being thrashed about, with not nearly enough force to be able to get up to get a breath. The force of the water is stunning. At the back of my frantic mind I remember, or think I remember, that you will always eventually rise to the top. But in as much as that was not happening, and I was running out of breath quickly, I was trying to remember if there was some time frame that went with that ´´eventually.´´ I don´t know how much time went by, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually I did get pushed out. I was nearly at the end of the rapids, and was so happy to breathe and feel the water gentling that I did not care too much about the occasional cuts and bruises I was getting from the rocks below.

They caught my boat upstream some, so I beached it, emptied it out and continued the way downstream. Not too much left, thank God. I had a beer when I got to shore.

My Vision

2005-11-13T14:32:00.000-08:00

Well, apparently the reason that we were not supposed to eat before going to the Shamen was because we were going to get sick --as part of the cleaning process, if yoiu will. Aohwaska (that is spelled phonectically, it is a Quecha word that I have no idea how to spell) is used to give the Shamen a vision, usually what medicane to prescribe when someone is sick.Though it is also used to help him see the future or bring forth a memory from the past. It is made from a bunch of herbs, and resembles something of a really thick, earthy, bad-tasting tea. In fact it is so ill-tasting that they even give you a chaser.

About 25 minutes after I drank the Aohwaska, the cleaning ceremony began. I sat in front of the Shamen, who is wearing a number of necklaces that, when they move, add to the music that he is making with his wooden instrument. During the cleaning, the only music is his singing-chanting. One of the first things he does is put his mouth to the top of my head and suck the bad energy out- this is quite loud. Really loud. While chanting, he is constantly moving a cluster of slighly wet palm leaves over my head and around my body. Each Shamen has their own chant. Before I get up, he again touches his mouth to my head and blows in new, clean energy. Also very loud. I still was not feeling any affect from the Aohwaska, so his wife gave me an additional portion. Interestingly, it is always the wife´s role to dole out the portion of the tea, based on body size, not the Shamen.

I went back and laid down somemore with the other couple people I was with, who were both feeling it a lot more, and both vomited within about 45 minutes from when they drank it. I wasn´t feeling anything really, but I thought, hey, at least I am not getting sick! Well, I did get sick about 3 or 4 hours later. At which point the Shamen comes over and shakes the leaves a bit more. So clean. Apparently, this is pretty typical people for people who are really active (delayed vomiting and no visions). Though it usully works after 3 times or so. I can´t say that I am parciularly inspired to take it again, though both the people I was with said they would.

We ended up sleeping there--its always so pleasant to fall asleep in the open air with all the sounds of the outer jungle around you. We woke up to lemongrass tea and eggs in the morning before heading back to Tena.

Shamen

2005-11-08T13:50:00.000-08:00

Well, today it POURED all day, which put a damper on my kayaking lesson. We are entering high season here so the rivers are pretty high and fast right now. I had my first day yesterday on a Class II or III river if that means anything to you, and well. It was an experience. I will make an entry of that. Lets just say I am not YET ready to enter my first competition...maybe after another day. Though I can´t do a roll, at least I have perfected existing the boat when I flip. This was more than a bit scary when I was stuck in it the first time, I can assure you.

Anyway, the guy that was teaching me to kayak is taking me and this belgian guy to a Shamen that lives somewhat near his family´s farm in the jungle (where we are hopefully going tomorrow). There is a ceremony and I am not supposed to eat for the 6 hours previous. I´ll let you know how it goes!

Scenes of the Day #2

2005-11-08T13:35:00.000-08:00

Sunday afternoon. Kids playing in the river in a boat they have constructed -- a full on barge, to be more exact, out of fallen down (presumably) trees, vines, and the like.

Random Scenes of the Day

2005-11-08T13:24:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: I would have a scene of the day every day, but inasmuch as I don´t email/computer every day, this is not going to happen. Darn. I like the concept though, so I am going to start doing what I can. Here are a couple that pop to mind.

Friday night. A car is pulled up to the river with all of the doors open allowing the salsa music to escape. Five couples are dancing on the riverwalk as the sun goes down.

Tuesday (?) evening. I am a bit deeper into the forest, and we are cooking dinner in a little clearing above a small lagoon. There is a family that lives in the area (18 children! this is not a typo). 3 of them walk by: one carrying a gun about to go hunting for the week, one with a fishing pole (stick with string attached), and one with a net of crabs. They disapppear up a path to the north of us.

Approaching Tena

2005-11-08T12:50:00.000-08:00

I am currently in Tena, which purportedly is the rafting (and to some degree kayaking) capital of the world -- to vouch for Lonely Planet´s honesty in this, I can say that the city did host the Rafting World Championships last month!

The ride here was spectacular, and it felt SO good to NOT be in the mountains and SO good to not have any altitude (though I still am not sure what percentage that played in my rides, versus simply having to pedal around the Andes with a bike that is laden with approximately 867 million pounds.) I am not sure how long the ride was Friday-- 147 Mi by how the crow flies according to Google and Mike C, and the road here would close to qualify for a crows chosen flight I think, but I can assure you that I did no such ride. Somewhere between 80 and 140 Km is more like it. I know-- what a small window, eh? Darn broken bike computer ,) Though this way I can pretend I did the 140, so mayhap it is a blessing in disguise.

The first half was unpaved (as were various parts of the second half). Unpaved with about a million holes, and millions of rocks. Nothing too bad though. Kinda like China Camp, more or less, though not with the turns.

Though, my racks holding my saddlebags did break. Disappointing because, well, I guess because I didn´t expect it to happen since I bought the racks recommended by both bike shops. Incidently, never shop at Freewheel Bikeshop in the Mission. I hate them and think the owner is a total a**. I have thought this several times before, and stop shopping there, but then due to convenience, I return. But I highly discourage all to shop there andI never will again. The problem with the back rack was only that the screw came out(the hook at the bottom of the bag gives a bit too much, causing the bags on the really bumpy road to really thump around a lot and I guess eventually get the screw out. I had a spare, though it´s a bit too long so need to go to a bike shop before leaving Tena. Then the front rack broke. I whipped out a bit of ducktape, which helped. But then I had brought along a couple of bungee cords for this scenerio as well, so got to put those into use.

Lots of dogs marking their territory is the other thing that made the ride interesting, they follow you (surround you if high enough in numbers) barking until you make it past some invisible line marking thier territory. My plan for this was to fashion a type of leash/whip to scare them away (string or jungle vine with small rock secured at the end for weight purposes), but I was able to deal. I read about people carrying a bunch of rocks for this reason, but as I have mentioned many times, 867 pounds is the limit of my pedal power, hence my coming up with the idea of a whip. I never was driven to this though, thankfully. Once though, I think I had about10 dogs, that was a bit scary! These dogs do not seem or look too friendly, I assure you, and many wild dogs have rabies, I have read. It makes me feel better to yell at them as I pass.

It was all very lush, obviously, in as much as the road goes along side/through the Amazon. I don´t know how many times I stopped to take pictures. There were a couple little towns, which was really only evident by a bus stop, maybe a building, and a few houses every 5 minutes or so. Again, all wood with thatched roofs for the most part, lots of women doing laundry, some men working on building something or other, lots of chickens wanderng the yards.

I actually didn´t stay in Tena friday, but in Puerto Napa, which is about 5 Km south. I ended up talking to this guy who lives on the river there who offered me a room for the night (often has volunteers for an eco-project he runs stay with him, but none at the time). I think about 10 or 12 people (3 generations) live in the house, which is a couple stories, really open, and doesn´t seem all that crowded.

Friday night was the kickoff of the weeklong town festival --the opening event being the election of the Reina de Tena (Queen)...a beauty pagent. One of the family members was a candidate, so I attended with the guy and a bunch of the cousins. Pretty funny. --happening spot in town though, I can assure you.

Somebody Else´s Story

2005-11-08T12:48:00.001-08:00

I spent a few days slightly farther into the jungle when I was in Puyo. --It is totally different, by the way then the jungle in the north, near the border of Columbia. Near Puyo it is much flatter and much, much denser. Very rain-foresty, if you will. This is not the point of the story in any case, though, and lord knows how much I always digress. So anyway.

On the way in (via trail and canoe), we passed a community of a few houses, three, I think. A Belgian guy, married to one of the older women, had been living there for a couple years and we got to talking for awhile, him asking me my plans, etc. When I said I was heading to Guatemala next, he asked how the political situation was there, and I said fine, more or less. It is not as safe as Ecuador, but is stable and has been attracting a lot of tourists the last few years in particular. And I was asking him how he came to end up here.

It turns out that he used to be a sound engineer for world tours of major groups like The Stones, Pink Floyd, etc. Usually how it goes is that after the tour stops, the group (assuming they want you again) mandates that you take 6-12 months off (paid for of course), but during which time you can´t work for other groups because being on the road takes so much time out of you they don`t want you having any kind of nervous breakdown or getting rundown or sick for the next tour. Anyway, one time, the last concert was in Mexico and so Mario decided to travel during his time off, starting there. He had a lot of Mexican contacts and friends from all the crew that he worked with and so was just making his way south. He ended meeting a women in the northern Chiapas region of Guatemala (the Mexican south and Guatemalan north are blurred as simply being Chiapas region more or less, to my understanding). Anyway, so he met this women and ended up staying there for the remainder of his time off and returned as well after then next tour, and eventually they got married.

Eventually (and now I don´t remember how many years into the future this was, but I want to say 3 years or so) she was getting increasingly worried because it was so unsafe and all of her family was in danger. Essentially, a guerilla soldier (supported by the CIA) would come into a community, demand to see so and so, and if they weren`t there, then somebody had to go find them. The person in question may be out hunting in the jungle, or fishing or doing something of the like, however, so not always the easiest to find. They would generally have 30 minutes until the first person got killed (wife or child), another 30 minutes until the next and so on. So the wife was worried, obviously because so many of the people in the surrounding communities had already had this happen and it was only a matter of time. Mario had a passport with so many visas and all these rights of way, essentially, from the concerts, it was pretty easy to get his wife and her family across the border into Mexico. Well, as they heard of more and more children, children they often knew, being shot they couldn´t stand by and not do anything, so for a couple years they helped kids cross the border. Eventually, somebody tipped somebody off (most likely), and Mario, his wife and the children they were with were stopped. They shot everyone except for Mario, who, of course, had the pleasure of watching. They couldn´t shoot him because he was white, but instead was tortured for a week. --You can still see where his nose was broken, his jaw, etc . He has an artifical hip becuase a nerve was cut off when they broke his hip and ceased to be functional. Anyway, you get the drift.

It´s amazing how you hear of these things all the time, and they are horrific and impossible for me to even imagine taking place. Then you are standing there listening to someone this actually happened to, and it is just incomprehensible. But then so much more comprehensible at the same time, as you can actually begin to picture the people and their families, and the places. Stories like this make me so ill. And then it gets worse that our foreign policy supports it. I really don`t understand why we are born so privileged in life.

Photos, Technology and the Like

2005-11-03T21:02:00.000-08:00

So I have always said that I am not a huge fan of technology. But I don´t think that I can say this anymore. Other than Jake, I am deeply in love with my digital camera and my iPod. And I have a blog. This is all deeply confusing to me.

I am concerned though in as much as my iPod is frozen (I implore you to feel my pain on this), and I didn´t bring the computer cord, only the power cord. Damn. The other think that has just let me down, however is that I just attempted to post a bunch of pics (well 5), but only one posted. Mostly because I wasn´t patient enough for the computer, and the fact that it was in Spanish so I wasn´t absolutely sure. But now I really do need to depart. Off to Tena tommorrow-- a completely unpaved road which is pretty knarly. I rode in a pickup on it yesterday, and think I have quite a ride ahead of me (without iPod!). It is about 130 Km. A couple people estimated that they think I can do it in a day, but I think it sounds like a lot. Depends how it goes. I will say that they call the rainforest the rainforest for a reason...it rains a lot! Until next time my friends. Until next time.

Who needs coffee?

2005-11-03T20:20:00.000-08:00

I can assure you that coca (as in same used to make cocaine) tea give you a hell of a lot more zip to start your day. Zippety doo dah, zippety eh, my oh my, what a wonderful day.

You are what you eat

2005-11-03T20:14:00.000-08:00

I will always wonder what makes different cultures eat different animals, while we find the idea of other animals repulsive. China, of course, is infamous for all the different meats available there. I was offered cat, dog, horse, and a bunch of others that I have no idea what they were due to my limited (i.e. non-existant) Chinese. One of my co-workers gave me the low down, however, on the intricacies of skinning and preparing a cat. That was just fine, though I am glad that prefer to have dogs as pets.

I must say, however, that during my time there, I never saw any animal, such as a guinea pig, skewered lengthwise, skinned (de-furred as the case may be), with head and teeth still attached, slowly roasting over open flames in front of every restuarant. I haven´t tried any yet. Though, for the record, I did eat some insect. Apparently high in protein and possesing 3 vitamins.

Welcome to the Jungle

2005-11-03T19:32:00.000-08:00

I had a tarauntula crawl up my arm...apparently it was not dangerous becuase it was young. It´s amazing how much you trust your guides with these things and their knowledge.

Anyway, I went on two jungle trips, both pretty short (5 days and 2 days). One in northern Ecuador, near the Columbian border in the Cuyabeno reserve, and one in more central Ecuador, near Puyo, accordingly.

Amazing how much it varies -- the northern bit that I was in was really open, as in not very dense forest, and was really flat. Here was basically a canoe trip -- I wish I had the time to write more about it! It´s an area that is rich in petroleum, which is easy to tell by all the development and contamination. This aspect is pretty depressing. Interestintly enough, it is also the place in the jungle by far most popular with tourists in Ecuador. I opted for a tour that was not in the more touristy part of Cuyabeno (the big lagoon), for better or for worse--you never know what you are going to get. We had lunch at a house on the river (Rio Aguanegro) before launching off in the canoes. The house was somewhat similar to those that I saw around SE Asia-- made of plywood more or less, raised off the ground enough to stand underneath (to prevent flooding mostly, and also to provide a cool place to rest), partially walls, partially open, thatched roof. Unlike many Ecuadorian houses, it was not painted any whimiscal color --I don´t know if I have noted before but a mint green seems to be the favorite. I like it --adds a softness to the countryside. From the yard, we sampled cocoa (does not taste like chocoalate until toasted, but the encasing of the seeds, which is soft is sweet and soft, kind of like butter caramels but not chewy), guava (which is long and thin , and coca.

I wish you could have seen the canoes pull up in the small lagoon where we were waiting. --simple wood canoes and paddles made of canola wood. I am not sure if it was the light, or the fact that the paddlers were standing, or really what it was, but it somehow reminded me of some Vietnamese movie from the early 70s. By the way, I think I have that right about the type of wood... I was on a 5 hour walking tour this morning, all in Spanish, learning about all the different plants and their medicanal and other uses, so my vocabulary was increasing pretty rapidly. Also leaving room for a lot of error in my memory! Ahh. I get ahead of myself. Back to Cuyabeno.

There was snaphu (spelling?!) with the canoes, so we didn´t get started until a bit later. Once going, we paddled for a bit (I was with a group of four French) until we got to the house of Washington. That is his name, by the way, not to be confused with some landmark. He has some crazy Spanish, meaning difficult for me to understand, which does not in all honesty take that much. I am not sure if this was highlighted even more by the fact that he was quite visably excited that this was only the fourth time he has seen tourists after living on the river for 9 years, or the fact that he was missing a good quarter of his teeth inhibiting his pronunciation, that Quecha was his first language (not Spanish), or just that he lives in the jungle and is a bit of a strange cat. But very anxious to please. He lives with his son in a simple, completely open thatched roof house with a loft where they sleeep. He said it took him about 2 months to build by himself, working about 10 hours a day. The roof was pretty interesting -- I think to build it he must have cut each of the logs (very long and thin, though I don´t remember the kind of wood) in half lengthwise, and then put one half on each side of the the thatch bit. The windows were my favorite part. They cultivate a fair amount of plants (peppers, coffee, we planted some tomato seeds), they also have many herbs growing around (the lemongrass was great for tea), some cotton trees, lots of green banana and palm trees, some cotton trees, guava, and I can´t remember what else.

...ahh sorry. To be continued. Internet is closing.

Stripshow

2005-10-25T17:39:00.000-07:00

Jake. Well, he got to strut his stuff alright. Yesterday we did a popular ride, from Banos down to Puyo-- about 60 or 70 Km, mostly downhill, dropping from the Andes into the Amazon. I don´t even know where to begin. There are a bunch of waterfalls that you can hike to (as well as hundreds that you can see from the road) and sometimes swim in, which is why I wanted to do this ride without Jake being fully saddled up.

One of the first trails that I hiked into led to the top of the waterfall, but getting there was half the fun. There are splashes of color everywhere of varieties of flowers that I have never seen. There are great big red drops, and prickly red tubes, and spotted bulbs that look venus fly traps (not that I am sure what those look like, but this is what came to mind), lots of pink and yellow. It is all just amazing. Butterflies are zooming about everywhere and all you can hear is rushing water. I was able to get up close to the waterfall in a few places--my favorite was where there was water gushing from the right down into this lake in a cave to the left. The cave was of course overgrown with moss and all kinds of green stalks, vines and leaves.

It is really popular to rent bikes in Banos (a heavily touristed town) to get to the waterfalls, and so I figured that I would run into some other tourists sooner or later, and maybe tag up with them. At the next waterfall -- quite a hike down rewarded with more spectacular views (to be seen from a very un-sturdy swaying bridge, with a posted limit of 4 people), I ran into a couple of guys from England, a girl from Australia and a guy from San Diego. After the walk back up we had some juice (really popular here, you get fresh squeezed with every meal), and then continued on together. My favorite juice incidently is this weird tomato juice which they sweeten. I can´t say it´s popular with many of my fellow travellers, however.

Most of the ride is on the road, but when there are tunnels (about 5) you can go around them on a dirt path off to the side. Jake, once again, began to get pretty exicted. I think this is his way of telling me that he is ready for the land. I am meant to have two bikes -- road and Jake (cyclo). Pondering, pondering. Anyway, pretty fun. On one of the earlier paths you go under a waterfall, which makes you feel pretty hardcore!

As you drop down, it is amazing how the Amazon is unfolding before your eyes. Everything gets greener, and you can feel the humidy increasing. The mountains begin to fade away, water is cascading from everywhere, it the clouds are looming over the peaks in the distance. I was impressed. I think the guys I was with were more impressed when they found a fried chicken and papas stand across from the passport control at the province border-- they indicated that not only was the ride not as downhill as promised, but that I was halfway nuts for doing this kind of ride on a regular basis ...and I think the chicken lady had never seen any one person order 3 orders (the other guy ordered 2)!

From the Sky

2005-10-25T17:21:00.000-07:00

Ahh...revenge of the stomach. Not terrible, but not the best. Half the problem was the stomach and the other half was that I couldn´t keep anything in my stomach, and therefore really couldn´t eat for two days. This did not go over well with me (I know that some of you are probably feeling sorry for whoever was around me!), but more just to the point of I was lacking all energy. I was feeling sorry for myself because Banos is city about halfway down the Andes towards the Amazon with tons of outdoor activities (well not THAT sorry), but enough to rationalize a trip to go hanggliding, which I have really always wanted to do. I figured it was perfect...I only needed to run about 5 steps off the hill, and then just sit there. I didn´t have my own but was with the guy from the shop.

Absolutely wicked. We drove about 50 minutes west (up) to get to this viewpoint. From the air I could see all the farmers working in the fields, in front of me was one of the volcanos with ash pouring out of its crater, kids herding their animals along the road, and the patchwork that makes up the countryside...not to mention an increase in the density of trees to the east and once again the fog and clouds over the moutains. I don´t know how it didn´t manage to block the volcano, but it didn´t. And I think I even managed to appreciate the fog...for those of you have heard me complain about it in SF (probably anybody that knows me) , you can imagine how high on life I was feeling!

Chicans

2005-10-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

I don´t know what the word is in Spanish, but Chichan is Japanese for pervert. In Japan, chichans are taken as a given-- I feel that I have had my share of perverts beating off on trains, in passing cars (while following me running), in internet cafes, and even behind a bush. But apparently, the fun continues. I am sitting on the bus yesterday, not really feeling great to begin with, and this guy sits down next to me. Actually, to be more specific, he moved to sit next to me. I should have gotten up and moved at that point when I had a chance, but I was feeling sick and tired, so just stayed where I was. All that extra energy, you know. And I was asleep at the time - just woke up to him next to me. Lesson learned. So first (keep in mind this is a 7 hour trip), he would be ¨sleeping¨ and his hand would come to rest on my leg, like a fist at first, but then his palm, and then he is rubbing my leg. So I remove. This happened a couple times, and at first I was not sure if he was actually sleeping, -- it took a bit to move up to the rubbing. And personal space is much less an issue. For example, on one local bus, an indigenous woman completely fell asleep on me, with her baby.

Anyway, back to the bus at hand. Then I am sleeping (did not even get 10 minutes the night before, hence the tired), and he LIFTS UP my shirt (the side) and proceeds to be touching my stomach and side. For Fucks Sake. Removed. Then I am looking out the window and have my arm above my head, holding the back of my seat --crunched up as far away from him as I can. And he starts making like a bird in slow motion and is trying to fucking rub his forearms on my chest. My arms come down, he is pushed away. Well, at least that fucking gives Mr. Bird a free hand to undo his pants -- unbeknownst to the rest of the bus becuase he blocks the view with this big black case (musical instrument) that has been sitting on his lap. Fucking disgusting. I move. Thank God somebody got off the bus soon. And then, when the bus stops for a rest stop, he pauses by my new seat, acting like nothing has happened, explaining to me why we are at the rest stop, when we are going etc. Really, just an iota of shame, please.

Lazy Day

2005-10-19T13:18:00.000-07:00

So I decided after all to stay in Cuenca for the day, where, really, I am not doing too much. The group of girls and I that I talked about did a little coperaia in the courtyard, then wandered around the city some. I am having some minor stomach problems, and hence have become dehydrated the last few days, so am feeling rather energy-less. Cuenca is a beautiful city, all cobblestone streets and a lot of colonial architecture. The buildings, like all over Ecuador, are all different colors to some degree, pastel mostly. There are 16 cathedrals/churches in the downtown area -- the newest one of which rivals those that I have seen in Spain or Italy. There are also several markets -- my favorite is a flower market that surrounds one of the churches. Usually there are women all over the streets selling a variety of fruits, though I am not sure what they all are. Lots of small fruits, as opposed to the big fruits, like dragonfruit, that you see around Southeast Asia. A river runs through Cuenca, and seems to be a pretty active city. I was out walking early this morning and there were a number of joggers on the river pathways, and at least one person running some stairs. Made me wish that I had my running clothes! I think I am going to go rest now (though I hate to do that!), or maybe walk along the river again, and hope that my stomach improves for salsa dancing tonight!

Who would have thought?

2005-10-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

"I relax by taking my bicycle apart and putting it back togetheragain." --Michelle Pfeiffer, actress

How blogs work

2005-10-19T08:15:00.000-07:00

I don´t understand how they work. When you get comments,are you supposed to comment back? On my own blog, I mean. Or if you get a link to their blog, do people usually comment there? I suppose you just do what you feel like. Hmmm.

Personal Campaign

2005-10-19T08:04:00.000-07:00

So, for those of you that know me, you may know that before leaving San Francisco I had initiated a Personal Campaign, if you will, for more girlfriends. You see, I live with two guys, work with mostly guys (if you look my team, which is dwindling fast), and on the weekend I go biking with all guys. As a result, a lot of my going out and drinking also tends to be with guys (that and one of my favorite bars is more the down and dirty beer bars versus a nice place to enjoy a glass of wine or have a cocktail). I even got invited to a Bachelor party. This is not normal. And random dates, are with guys as well. Too many guys. Hence the personal campaign -- which has taken a lot of dedication!

This all leads us to Cuenca, however. I have been hanging out with this brilliant german girl, and then a couple nights ago, some italians joined us, and a couple more german girls, and I decided the campaign needs continue (not that this took much work), and that we should all make a big night out. Though, here enter hot Argentinian. It has been a fun group for happy hours, breakfast in the mornings, etc. The problem is now that there is a salsa club tonight that is supposed to be great, and I am having trouble motivating myself to Banos. I may get there eventually. I like to think however, that I can justify my time here in the name of the Campaign. I wish I had my running clothes, however.

Getting No Where Quick

2005-10-19T08:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I am still here in Cuenca-- more of an extended stay than I had intended. You see, I have been having a bit of an encounter, if you will, with this Argentian guy and well, yep. --Have´t left yet is how that story goes. The guys at the hostel had all known me as the girl with the bike (you can get famous pretty quick when you role up everywhere on a bike...I haven´t run into anyone yet who has met a girl cycling through alone), but now it has swithed to the girl of indecision. I like to think of it as living for the moment. A celebration of my completion of the mountain stage. You know, ´cause I am going ALMOST the same speed as in the Tour. Except when I feel like I am going backwards, that is.

Cajas

2005-10-17T08:24:00.000-07:00

I went to Cajas National Park yesterday -- so many lakes it could give Minnesota a run for its money! Though, I suppose Minnesota has it beat it terms of square kilometers. Miles, whatever. Anyway, I caught a bus there from Cuenca, and hiked around for a few hours. Really nice. Not the most hands-down stunning scenery, but really pleasant. It has some funky trees, kind of similar to Madrone. I think I got more than a few scratches when taking a wrong turn off the trail, however!

It was Sunday, and on the ride back I think I must have seen at least 15 pig roasts. Smells a lot better than the guinea pig, if you ask me! I got back later afternoon, so the rain started up pretty soon, and spent the rest of the night hanging out at the hostel, mostly with this German girl, Sonia, that I really like. Was great. -- Like I said, a very pleasant day.

The Route to Cuenca. Riobamba.

2005-10-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

Hard. That is what I have decided, but I did get to see so much. After Riobamba, I made it all the way to Alousi in one day (about 100 Km). This may not seem like a lot, but when your bike is attempting to glue you to the ground becuase it weights so much, you have mountains and feel like you spend all your time going up (time-wise, I am sure you do), and have trouble getting any oxygen, I tell you, it is a lot. I left Riobamba - thank God I didn´t stay there more than one night. As a rememberance of the hostel I stayed at, I am constantly scratching my legs as a result of bedbugs. Disgusting. I have stayed at mostly relatively nice places, but this one was a bit dodgy for sure. Gross. Anyway.

To give you a rundown, Riobamba seems like a Detroit, or something of the like. It does have some redeeming qualities: like every town or pueblo I have been in thus far, it has cobblestone streets (not considered redeeming when travelling by bike, however), and has quite a number of cafes and bars, I think in large part due to it having a University. It also had a cafe that had FANTASTIC, REAL, NOT INSTANT coffee, which you could even get TO GO, about 1 block from my dodgy hostel. Everthing is centered around the train station, which at night had more food stalls then I have seen in any other place thus far in Ecuador. It was really crowded as well, with a lot of people eating and hanging out.

After arriving in Riobamba in the early afternoon (I usually start riding by 6:30), I took a local bus to a nearby village that is famous for its carpets. Not that I planned to strap one on Jake. The village was quaint- small, cobbestone streets nested in the mountains. Like every Ecuadorian town, it had a main plaza and park facing the church. I wandered around some - though even in a village as small as this it is noisier than you would expect with the muffler-less cars and frequently ancient buses, the TVs and radios blaring from all the shops, and the pretty constant honking. In any case, I had a pleasant meander and a good lunch/dinner consisting of rice, chicken and a type of maize. A pretty standard fare around here. I had a hankering to go for a beer when I was back in Riobamba, but alas they were all closed it seemed, because it was Monday. I wandered around the streets for a couple hours (coffee in hand), then went home to give a little love to Jake, and be consumed by bedbugs.

Healing Powers

2005-10-17T07:31:00.000-07:00

Spitting. I once found that I underestimated its powers. When living in Japan, I would take Ruck (my bike) to the bikeshop when having problems. This man perhaps had the most unclear Japanese I have ever experienced in my life, consisting only of grunts, and it seemed that he would usually come to the front of the shop in his pajamas. I never could quite figure out the scene. But the shop was reletively close to me, and so I kept on with it. But if I had trouble with my brakes, or if my tire was leaking air, his solution would be to spit on it. And, miracously, it seemed to work, well enough, anyway. When I was in China (or am in Chinatown in SF, for that matter), even though it is probably not true, I attribute all the spitting to health and healing as well. I like to think they are clearing out the mucus and smoke from their lungs because I think Chinese ciggerettes are the worst smelling ciggerettes around.

This takes us to Ecuador. It is bright and early one morning in Canar, a city in the Andes mid-way (more or less) between Alousi and Cuenca. I had noticed the day before, much to my chagrin that my tires were sorely lacking air. In order to prepare for the climb (I was assured there was only one!) I thought it would behoove myself to fill those bad boys up. It is amazing the difference it makes when your bike ways approximately 867 million pounds. No exaggeration. 867 million, if not 868. Then we encountered a BIG problem. My pump was broken. Somehow the peice at the top had come off. I have no idea how or when. I have lots of spare parts, but no spare pump.

So off I go, with low pressure, thinking that at least it is more down than up after the first hour or hour and a half. Well, I didnt´t get very far before I was having a total mind fuck and decicided that this hill was going to eat me alive if I didn´t get some air in my tires. But nothing was open as I was leaving Canar because it was so early. Not to mention the fact that they do not generally have presta valves, so I would not find a pump in a small town, and they do not have 28¨ wheels in Ecuador (even in Quito), so I would not be able to simply replace the tube. But I hoped that in Cuenca there would be a cycling store where I would be able to buy a new pump (even though the blackburn handpump I saw in Quito cost $50!!). But first I have to get there.

I stop and ask a few indigneous women on the side of the road where they think the next bike shop is. They point me down a dirt trail to an indigenous village, indicating that I should ask for Manuelo. I show them my valve, they say ¨no problem, no problem, he can fix it.¨ I knew this wasn´t likely true, but out of sheer hope, and the thought that it would at least be entertaining, off I go. Jake is once again trying to strut his stuff on the rocks, sand and dirt. Trying to entice me to take him to his homeland.

After a million stares and about-faces, I find Manuelo. He cannot put air in the tire. Not a shock. But then he notices that I have dried blood all over my hand and knee. Now, I failed to mention that I had a bit of a mishap earlier this morning and cuased the cuts I had gotten from my previous fall to re-open. So he offers to clean it with soap, I say don´t worry, it´s fine, but then eventually give in.

His wife comes back with a glass of water, or clear liquid in any case, so I figured either water with soap or alchohol in it. I couldn´t quite tell. Manuelo has me hold out my hand, then takes a big swig from the glass, then SPITS all over my hand. I think my jaw must have dropped. And then he does it again. And then proceeds to spit all over my leg after several successive swigs. At this point, I am having trouble not laughing, becuase what else can you do, and think that I suppose the mouth is supposed to be the cleanest place. Isn´t that why cats always lick themselves? And then he asked me if I wanted to drink any of the alchohol, since it probably burned a litle bit. I declined.

The Magic of Books

2005-10-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

I love it and hate it when you finish a book you love. I always re-read the last page, then I close it and read the synopsis, then i hold it for a few minutes, with both hands. And of course, I try to keep it in sight for a couple of days - on my dresser or desk, or somewhere of the likes where the characters can´t escape. It seems so unfair to hide it away on the shelf after you have gone through so much with the people. And then it also seems so disrespectful to just start a new book right away, so then you are left in this wasteland. That is the worst.

I often wonder what makes a good book - for me, I think just relating to the characters, I suppose. Though there are many ¨good¨ books that I don´t really care about, and then many probably not quality books that I have loved. I don´t think that symbolism and foreshadowing is the answer. I hung out with this guy , ¨The Magnet Maker,¨a few times earlier this year who is loves to write. I think must have asked approximately 867 million questions regarding his writing (all this questioning was probably good, since we had absolutely nothing in common beyond the fact that we both drank coffee). I think writers come from such a different plane than myself. I would love to be able to write, and think on and off about taking a creative writing course. And then sometimes I think, on the rare occasion that I keep a journal, I should attempt to find my voice within those pages. But so far, I always just find it easier to talk to myself. Life will go on, I suppose.

But maybe one day, when I have my personal library (which will certainly have a ladder that slides along the dark mahogny shelves, an immense open paned window with one large, cushy chair facing it, and a desk off to the right), it will be at that time that I will become a famous writer. Or at least write.

Bathroom Yoga

2005-10-12T18:44:00.000-07:00

One of the things that perpetually confuses me in life is the design of some bathrooms. Now, I understand that I am relatively tall (5´10¨). However, I don´t quite consider this to be gargantuan. If I were an architect, per se, and designing a bathroom, I think I would consider the key elements -- let´s say a toilet and a sink. We could nitpick at this point and say that some bathrooms are split and have the toilet and sink in different rooms, but I am going for the sake of ease right now. For this, a toilet and sink are the two essential elements of a bathroom. People sit on a toilet, facing forward, I do believe. So my confusion comes in when the toilet has less than 4¨from the wall in front of it. Please glance at your lap at this point and decide where the 4¨mark would be. Where do you put your legs? Do you lift above? Do you sit to the side? I brought this up today to a guy from Alaska, Colin. He said the toilet he was utilizing today, in fact, would have been too small for anyone over 5´2¨. He decided to straddle. I feel that this could lead to problems -- mayhap similar to the over-the-head solution. So maybe we can conclude that the architect in question had an affair with the maid, ending on bad terms? I have no answers. Only dilemmas. This is right in align, however, with another pet peeve of mine -- low shower heads. Why would you put a shower head at 5´? Clearly, there is no disadvantage for putting it at, say 7´, and by putting it at 5´, many are forced to do an extended squat, if you will, while attempting to cleanse.

Spots of Color

2005-10-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

Well, the distance from Cotopaxi to Latacunga was INCREDIBLY short and INCREDIBLY flat! As in, whereas the day before i think in 8 hours i was only in my big ring (i have two) for a maximum of 10 minutes, (i was in granny pretty much the ENTIRE day i think...and then by the end i was so tired, where there actually was flat for a few minutes, i still couldnt manage much more than grandma!), i actually got to put it to good use today! Well, in the short amount of time i was on my bike. But i felt like a million dollars, and for that, thank god! So i pulled into Latucunga early (while listening to jock jams 95, gotta say something for the tootsie roll, ya know?) . Now, from Latucunga i was planning on doign this loop between indigenous villages a bit higher up in the mountains, and so needed to leave Jake in town, since it woudl be some non-bikeable roads and trails. And let me tell you, after driving uphill for 1.75 hours on the only road that WOULD have been considered bikeble, i say thank my lucky stars i left him there to wait for me! i liked to reserve my million dollar feeling.

Wow. The Andes amaze me though. Watching the scenes unfold from the bus window was like watching a movie set back in time. You could see the Illianzas and Mt. Cotopaxi always looming in the background, where in the forefront the hills were all a patchwork of yellows and greens. It was much greener than north of Quito, but still fairly brown. This only highlighted bright clothing, however, of the people working in the fields, doing wash on stones, shephading their animals or simply sitting or walking on the side of the road. The bus I was on also was 98% indigenous people in traditional clothing. The women typically wear several embroidered (solid colors with embroidery of the same color) wraps, knee length skirts, slightly heeled shoes, a plaid scarf around their neck, and their hair back in one a low-ponytail completely encased in an embroidered wrap -- like the kind that is popular to get a few strands of hair in in the carribean. Like the men, they sometimes wore a slighly rimmed, dark green hat with a peacock feather on the side. The men were all in heavy ponchos down to their knees, pants, and often knee-high boots, especially when they were in the fields. There were two other foreigners on the very over-crowded bus other than myself, a belgian and a Spaniard.

There is a huge market on Saturday mornings in Zambuha, for which, apparently, indians come from as far as the coast for. For this reason, I wanted to stay in Zambuha that night, but had enough time for a hike or something of the likes before dark. After getting off the bus in Z, the belgian (Jesse) and I started our way towards Lake Quinotoa, which is amazing. School must have just been letting out, as there were a ton of children on the road, most of who would laugh and discuss amongst themselves when they saw us. -- Though would alwasys share a few words with us after we greeted them with a buenas dias or hola. The houses were quaint, and had roofs varying from brush to tin. Most houses had a couple of gardens and several animals grazing out front. After walking for about an hour, Jesse and I hopped into a passing pickup that offered us a ride. Lake Quinotoa is amazing. It is a crater lake, and though the weather was not fantastic, the low-hanging clouds gave it a mystical feeling. After haivng a cafe in the cafe desinged for tourists, we headed down. It takes about 30 minutes to get down and hour to get back up (about 20-25 % grade, i would say, of which a large part is sand). Whew. But makes you appreciate the view from the top a hell of a lot more! We had arranged for a ride back to Zumbuha (and jesse had already paid for a room back in Latucunga), so headed that way. The sunset over the hills and mountains was pretty spectacular to see from the back of a moving pickup. Accroding to Lonely planet, there was supposed to be all kinds of partying and traditional andean music in Zumbuha the night before the market...but this was no where near the case!! I stayed at Oro Verde, which was nothing special, but I really liked the family that ran it-- and it/they had the only open resturant/bar open in the village! Hence, Javier (the Spaniard from the bus) came in shortly after I sat down for dinner. After dinner we ended up having a couple beers -- though much to my chargrin, he didnt speak any english! I must say though, he is reallly really good at understanding and being patient with bad spanish! Neither of us were sure what exactly our plan was for the next day, other than to see the market. I was planning on going past Quinotoa to Chucachli, a smaller pueblo on the other side of lake and canyon. He hadnt been to the lake yet, so was going to fit that in.

The market was great -- i could hear people coming in for it all night (the entire village consisted of the plaza and the 4 streets around it). All kinds of live animals, grains, meats, clothing, and other goods. After meandering the crowds for 1.5 hours or so and having some patatas and huevos, I ran into Javier. It was still only 7:30 so we had a full day ahead of us. We decided to meet in Quilota around 11 and then hike to Chuchilan. -- This was good for me, as i didnt think the the trails were really well marked and i know i have a perchant for getting lost! I hung around Z long enough for another cafe and to pay the family for my stay, and then started walking to the lake. I just couldnt get enough of the surroundings. --Which was appararent, since i was so busy looking around me, i wasnt looking at the road and fell, ripping my pants and bleeding in a few places. Nice. But such is life, so i continued on, figurignt that even though i knew i wouldnt make it walking in time, that there were plenty of pickups passing by from the market.

Ahh. I am tired of writing now. I think i need to not detail every second of my life. Until next time.

Jake and Meg, sittin´ in a tree

2005-10-07T14:30:00.000-07:00

Tough. Really F*** tough. Those are my thoughts surrounding my first day biking in the Andes. Though, at the end, Jake was gettign pretty excited, I think. I stopped at this hostel (not the one I intended I dont think) about 1.5 miles down a dirt, or sand, more accurately, path off the road. The cross tires worked infinately better than the road tires i had on it during the "trial" run. I think it is Jake´s way of telling me that he can handle stone road blocks and sand just fine, and that is what he wants. And that I need to buy a road bike. The hotel where i stayed was pretty remote -- though i couldnt get food when i got there, so i walked back down a different trail to the main road and tried to find some, but to no avail. This led to an EXTREMELY un-energetic meg for the rest of the night. I had skipped breakfast (dumb) in my idea to get an early start. I think this thourgh me off all day. At 10 I stopped at a vendor on the side of the road for some sweet potatoes, and at 1 or so i stopped at Mariachi for lunch, though i couldnt really eat much once it was in front of me! Mariachi is a cute town -- also all cobblestone. The most surprising thing to me was that they had two chinese restraurants! I talked to one of the women selling fruit for awhile, and then a columbian boy (18) who just got here about 6 months ago from Columbia, where his family still is. He lives in Quito but commutes to Machinachi every day to sell artifcial flowers from a cart he pulls on his bike. -- he says he likes being otu of the city which i more than understand. I still found it surprising however that he could fine a job easier in Machiachi than Quito!! d started biking at 6:30 or so, and arrived at the hostel at 3 somethign or other. It started pouring rain at some point, but then lifted pretty quickly. I am not sure how far i went (computer is not working), becuase i did this outside loop from Quito, which was less traffic-y and had better views. I, of course, got lost to some degreee. But all is well that ends well, and the only other place i think that i could have problems is past riobamba, where the PA splits a couple of times. Really really hard though. But i just had to think that tommorrow is another day. With breakfast.

Mechanic in the Making

2005-10-06T14:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I ended up spending an extra day in Quito. Essentially, I got up super early yesterday am and was goign to give a complete look over my bike, take it for a test ride, and then take a bus up to Otovalo around 9. --Otovalo is maybe about 80 miles (?) north of Quito, and is home to the biggest indian markets around, surrounded by several lakes.
Well, (and sorry if this bike speak bores some of you!) but realized that my wheel was out of true, so i went about truing it, but it was pretty severe, so then i was thinking maybe i just need to go the shop to start out totally in alignment. And also realized that my hanger did get bent so the shifting was less than desireable on a couple of gears -- and bending a hanger is not a recommended project for a blossoming mechanic. My stem also got knocked over a bit. Alas after much debate i decided i was better off to wander and find a good cafe for breakfast then head over to the shop. Truing wheels are superior in life to my tampering about with only a spoke wrench. Breakfast was great -- I went the centro historico which was full of life at rush hour on a monday morning and found my desperately needed coffee.
Meandering back through the cobblestone streets, I picked up my bike at the hostel and headed to the shop. Well, dumb me didn´t realize that my brakes were also knocked a bit, and hence sitting too high on the rim, and in the 1.5 miles to the bike shop i totally demolished my sidewall. nice. so now i had to use my spare tire, and they don´t sell my size tire in ecuador (though the shop has tons of nice parts -- shimano, mavic, campignola, etc). Well, this turned into an adventure as Oswaldo didnt have a patch big enough for me, so his friend, Diego took me to a couple shops in an attempt to locate one, but to no avail! I rode back to the hostel, and figured out the route that I would need to take to leave town, whenever that would be. -- I got a little lost, but not too bad considering! BUT, and I only went partway, the descent when leaving Quito will be an adventure as the road is of course narrow and windy, all cobblestone with stacks of major potholes. I am hoping for the best tommorrow when I leave -- I plan on leavign around 6 am, so hopefully traffic will be light.
Anway, Oswaldo and I had decided to meet for a beer, so after ducking out of the intense afternoon rain in the hostel, I headed back downtown. We met his friend, Miguel, an Nicaraguan who works for the American Embassy, and went to a pretty modern place for a drink-- similar to any TGIFridays or soemthign of the like. This was not the original plan, but traffic was atrocious so it seemed to make the most sense. I had had plans to meet a dutch girl that is living here, Ana Maria, in the Mariscal (downtown, foreigner area) at 8. So we headed over there and contined our drinking. Though, of course, I remembered my lessons of drinking a lot at altitude and kept it pretty easy. As it turns out, Diego offered to take me on a motorcycle ride up to Otovalo the next day, so I thought that would be a good plan. I agreed to call him at 7 am -- and i must say the payphones here work a heck of a lot easier than many countries i have been in!
Now first, i had to go to te pharmacia because i had run out of drops for my pink eye, and am SO sick of wearing my stupid glasses! So i am chatting with the pharmacist, who learns that I am plannign to cycle through ecuador, and that I live in SF. Well, next thing i know he is dialing his son on the phone for me to talk to. Right. So he hands me the phone, and Pedro, his son, is clearly confused as to why he is talking to me (though he studied in Calif. and speaks english fluently so this helped my case!). Cool guy -- as it turns out they are doign an adventure race in early november and need a girl for their team -- sounds awesome, though i told him i dont have much experience in most of the things. And the biking bit is mountain biking, where clearly my skills leave a lot to be desired. but i said maybe, but dont hold the spot for me.

Otovalo was fantastic -- though definately has been turned into a tourist city, albeit a very pleasant one. The motorcyle ride took us about 1.5 hours, with a stop at a lake and hat shop. The countryside was pretty dry, but majestic nonetheless. Otovalo is a small town, with a number of craft shops and a permanent market set up in the main square. I would have loved to buy some of the ceramic bowls, either for myself or a gift! They of course had lots of woven bags, in addition to tapestries and some wooden carvings. I really liked some granite bookends, but the thought of lugging them around just wasnt going to happen! We had mexican for lunch (ecuadorian - mexican if you will) and headed home with a few stops in some pueblos along the way. Diego wanted to take me to the offical equator line, but i needed to do a couple errands in the city (a killed belgium cyclist two months ago convinced me that pepper spray was at least a good idea to carry). Some emailing`, erranding, packign and then off to bed.

Of Dutchmen and bikeshops

2005-10-03T15:24:00.000-07:00

I love the biking dutchman. So, for those of you that don´t know, I arrived in Quito last night. Now, I had a bit of a worry (understatement) when I went to retrieve Jake (my bike) from luggage at the airport. The side was bashed in, with a HUGE hole at the top and dents and holes where the derailleur resides. Thank God I took it off at the last minute. -- the derailleur, that is. Friday, the day before departure, got to be very heated in 1505 (my apartment). There was grease. There was sweat. There was lots of sweet talking and cajoling, as well as some rather short conversations with Jake. But we made it through.

Now, I stayed calm (mostly becuase I was tired, I think), and I knew that there was a biking dutchman in Quito, so maybe he would be able to direct me to a bikeshop, or help me fix it, if indeed there was a problem that I couldn´t take care of. Meg the Mechanic is still a project in the works (reference the need for sweet talking). Thankfully, I don´t think anything is to bent, though I haven´t shifted through all the gears (the room does not have much room in it), but things seem to be at least somewhat in order. But I did still seek out the Dutchman to get a feel for road conditions, recomendations, etc.

He was GREAT!! We talked about a bunch of the major passes, which roads are passable, the best way to get out of Quito, and DAMN all I wanted to do when I got out of that shop was hop on Jake and take to the mountains. --Unfortunately, I still am getting lightheaded pretty easily from all the alititude! Details, details. Full on hop, skip and jump in my step. From there I went to a bike shop where I needed to get some screws that I must have left at home (I thought I had left them in my fork, but appranetly not). I ended up talking with the bike guy, Osvaldo, for another 30 minutes (though this was in Spanish, so in reality a lot of it was probably dead air as I formed my sentences!). And I know now how to say Phillips screwdriver in spanish, for my next stop, the hardware store.

Quito is really picturesque city. It sits amidst the mountains, and this morinng was about 80 degrees and incredibly sunny. The streets are relatively clean, and especially in the new town seems incredibly modern. Since you can read everything (even though you may not understand it), it does not seem that foreign. Likewise, the food is not necessarily that different -- lots of pollo, arroz, hamburgesas and fast food, sandwiches, jugos, naranjas. There are several big parks in the city -- similar to city parks in Spain, I feel like. The old town is pretty fantastic. Looming above the Basilica is Mt. Cotapaxi, and at the time the fog was rolling in over it. Colored houses --yellow, pìnk, blue, green, orange -- line cobblestone streets. I wandered though a market with the typical stalls carrying everything from backpacks to sewing machines to burnt cds. There are multitudes of street vendors, selling mostly snack food. My favorite are the girls selling helado. They are holding these huge Thanksgiving platters full of what looks like whipped creme with severeal sugared ice cream cones sticking out. In a lot of ways, the old town reminds me of Lisbon, Portugal. Though they sell t-shirts likening it to San Francisco, and maybe given the fog, hills and colored houses I can see it.

From what I have seen wondering the old town, new town, the areas in between and the outskirts, Quito is a lot wealthier than I expected. There were incredibly few beggers when compared to anywhere in SE Asia that I visited. Thankfully, there were even fewer disfigured or handicapped beggers, which I can only contibute to the lack of landmines littering the countryside. People also take cabs a fair amount, and there is nothing like Tuk-tuks, songtheows, or even moto-taxis.

Alright, thats all I´ve got for now. Tommorrow I hope to go hiking on Cotopaxi, since I am still trying to adjust to the altitude (go AWAY headache!) and therefore holding off on the bike just a bit. Until next time.

Confused.

2005-10-03T15:17:00.000-07:00

I have decided that blogs are a lot of pressure. Do you write it like an email? An email to your friend? Your Grandma? A stranger? Or is it like a journal? A conversation? An interview? I am still trying to figure this out. I had thought that I wanted to work on my writing -- but then you can´t work on it whilst having it as a showcase! At least I can´t. One of my goals in life is to take a creative writing class, but I don´t think I am there yet. I think it will just have to be whatever comes out. That seems to be my style in life anyway. Email style, if you will.

All in one day

2005-09-27T22:39:00.000-07:00

Since the birth of my iPod last Christmas I have begun to have a creeping suspician that I may begin to take the leap into computers. Today I bought a digital camera. Tonight Bookclub convinced me to start a blog. Slippier slope than a slip'n'slide on Filmore Street on a rainy day, I tell you -- no banana slugs here. Now if I can figure out how to put pictures on here, we'll be in business. Lack of digital pics thus far though may be problematic, though, eh?