Return from the Galapagos

Journal #15

October 21, 2009

Location: 45 minutes north of Peru, on the road from Manchala to Cuenca

Weather: Cloudy, pleasant

The last two days off the boat have been very sad and very difficult. The sound of waves and glorious sun of the Galapagos is replaced with blaring car horns and gray skies of the coast. The week of the Galapagos was one of the happiest weeks of my life. New experiences occurred every day in such rapid succession I hardly know where to begin to describe them. I laughed more than I have in months and months until my stomach hurt and tears were streaming down my face. I am a firm believer that the sun was the cause of my happiness. I was warm, in my bathing suit for 75% of the trip, and toasted to perfection on the top of the boat. Needless to say, saying goodbye to the crew of the Golondrina was difficult.

A quick breakfast was followed by packing. None of my clothes were totally dry. Everything is caked in salt and sand, all sticky with sea water and sweat. I've never been so dirty all the time. It was lovely. Despite the fact that I missed having my hair clean and straight, I didn't mind letting it dry in the sun and the wind until it was a lion's mane around my head. I was too busy enjoying the stunning scenery to really mind. Now, two days later, I'm sure my clothes are perfumed with mildew and unrecognizable. Now, I care. I'm grumpy. I want clean underwear, dang it.

Machala was a bit of a disappointment. The filth and unorganized layout of the city was especially noticeable after clean Quito and homey Cuenca. Machala made me want to wash myself in bleach.

The banana plantation we visited today was interesting. I dislike bananas to begin with, but, since Machala is the banana capital of the country, and I can appreciate the process. The bunches of bananas are wrapped and separated to avoid bruising and damaging. Why? Because we Americans won't buy bruised bananas. It seems so silly when you see the piles of green bananas lying in wait to be shipped off to factories where they'll be smashed and put into other foods instead of being sold in grocery stores, simply because of a tiny mark.

The bananas are cut from their large stems, which are nearly as tall as I am, then washed, cut into the perfect bunches you see in the store, stickered, packaged, and shipped off to Beuhler's, where my mother likes to buy them green and crunchy.

The shrimp farm was what really surprised me. I am not such what I was expecting, but the large, square ponds were not it. The pools are emptied every few weeks after the shrimp have been fished out with nets. The pools we visited were scheduled to be fished that night, so we got to see the live shrimp, pulled straight from the water. They're nearly as long as my hand, and look like the most ridiculous, alien-like creatures with their bulging eyes and grey exoskeleton.