Day 3 of the Galapagos

October 14, 2009
Location: Espanola Island
Weather: Overcast in the morning and evening with lots of sun midday—pleasant

I woke this morning at 3:30 AM when I felt the rocking of the ship stop suddenly and everything went quiet. The Southern Cross was directly above my head and I watched the sky for a while. A shooting star prompted me to jostle Shannon awake, who, after a bit of incoherent muttering, rolled over and went back to sleep, so I tapped Adam's foot. He opened his eyes just in time to see a second star streak over our heads. The sky was magnificent and we stared in wonder at it for a while; however, sleep was overpowering.
Three hours later in the morning were spent hiking around the island to see the waved albatrosses, blue-footed boobies, iguanas, and, of course, sea lions. The cliffs of Espanola are all volcanic rock and as black as could be, a striking contrast to the aquamarine ocean behind them. It may be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I know my pictures can't do it justice. We took turns edging up to the very farthest rock, pretending we weren't afraid of the crashing surf and rocks, trying to out-do each other with the most risky pose, the most creative picture, the most interesting snapshot to capture of the immense beauty of the place.
Professor Melampy gave us permission to jump from the very top of the ship into the water while we were anchored. We decided it would be a memorable experience and I'm proud to say that every single member of the B.W. Group took the leap—even the Professor himself! (I have a picture to prove it.)
Heights have terrified me ever since I got stuck up in Dakota Long's tree and had to be rescued by his mother, way back in preschool. It was a traumatizing experience. But with one leap into the air, I was one step closer to overcoming that fear. There is nothing quite like a jolt of adrenaline when you're free falling 30 feet above the loveliest ocean in the world. I jumped five or six times for that thrill.
Despite the beauty of noon, clouds rolled in just as we headed out to snorkel; therefore, I opted to skip the steel-gray water. Alberto (“Cholo”), the dinghy driver, took me on a private tour of the coast while the others made their way around massive black rocks, through strong currents. I was vaguely jealous when I saw they would be able to snorkel in a cave but felt better after I watched half of them emerge from the water shaking and blue. Emily got a bloody coral scrape on her shin and had to sit (fairly) still while Alberto poured vinegar over it to disinfect it. Kyle was close to freezing and even Adam, despite his muscle, couldn't take the frigid water. I think I made the right choice in skipping today.
Fassi took us back to the island for a few free hours on the beach. Again, I say that Espanola is stunning. All the adjectives in the dictionary are not able to describe it. One of the first sights when we landed was a baby sea lion so new that it was still attached to its mother by the placenta. Darwin's theory of the survival of the fittest stemmed from what he saw in the harsh habitats on the Galapagos. I simply see the islands teeming with life—not the harsher realities he saw. Tidal pools were filled with emerald algae and frequented by Sally light-foot crabs. I couldn't walk five feet without nearly squashing a marine iguana or mistaking a dozing sea lion for a rock.
We had fun messing around and enjoying the freedom of being young and carefree and in the middle of the most magical place on earth while our friends back home are freezing and in class.
But I'll try not to gloat.

Day number 2 of the Galapagos

October 13, 2009

Location: Santa Fe Island

Time: 6:35 PM

Weather: Began misty and cloudy then sunny and absolutely stunning all day!!!

The. Best. Day. Ever.

We woke up at 5:30 AM to eat and tour Santa Cruz for a bit with Fossy, our Ecuadorian guide for the week. Our first stop was Los Gemelos, pit craters located on the very highest point of the island. Several theories exist to explain the random craters in the middle of nowhere: a big lava bubble could have formed and burst, leaving the hollow, rounded spaces; a lava tunnel could have collapsed; or another one which I can't seem to remember at the moment. At any rate, the two craters are enormous and covered in vegetation now. The sides are steep and nearly sheer rock. If not for a few low guide rails, it would be an easy mistake to step into the mist and tumble right over the ledges.

Next we toured Primicias Ranch. Giant tortoises roam the area in the “wild.” Did you know turtles pass gas? I bet you didn't! Their poo is also larger than my foot. I have the pictures to prove it. At the same ranch, we walked through a lava tube: a cave in the ground formed where lava flowed through a hardened crust and left an open space. It was gloriously muddy and wonderful to spelunk through.

A bit more shopping at the Port allowed Megan, Ashley Hand, and I to explore the fish market. Remember how I said that sea lions feel a sense of entitlement to everything? The pelicans do as well. We saw a whole flock of enormous pelicans along with several sea lions begging for scraps of fish and trying to steal whole ones from the fishermen. It was unbelievable. I also found a pair of black shoes I just had to buy.

These last two weeks I have been eyeing the Cuencana women's shoes. They have the capability to wear heels everywhere and if it isn't heels they're wearing, they're wearing sharp little boots or strappy sandals. I would kill for the shoes these women wear. So I finally bought a pair of black shoes. They're perfect for hiking through mud and soggy areas and positively the most hideous shoes that my feet have ever touched. My toes practically recoiled at the sight of them but they're necessary. I don't want to get my hiking boots soaked and I can't wear sandals.

Setting sail for Santa Fe was magnificent. I was so anxious to get into the sun, I was giddy. The three hour sail was enough time to get a lovely tan and take a bit of a nap. Apparently the towel wrapped around my body inspired my fellow students to drape another towel across my feet and take a picture of me as a mermaid. Thanks, guys. The waves in the open ocean were large enough to send half the group running to their cabins. Fortunately, I had no problems and remained on deck the entire day. Nate and I had fun swinging from a large beam running the length of the ship as it rocked under us. I can't even begin to describe how perfect the afternoon was. The sun was glorious and bright and hot and if I didn't know any better, I would worship it. I love the hot, hot sun but the wind whipping through my hair kept it from being overpowering. The experience of being on a ship makes me want to play Titanic (“I'm flying, Jack! I'm flying!”).

Walking at sea is a treat. I haven't acquired my sea legs quite yet, nor has the rest of the group. Several of us nearly went overboard and we did fall on each other frequently.

We arrived on Santa Fe in the mid-afternoon and immediately broke out our snorkeling gear. I plunged backward over the side of the dinghy and right into a school of tiny fish. Several brightly-colored fish were weaving among anemone-covered rocks. Near the shore, a sea lion dove into the water right next to me and Jenny. She spun around me, blowing bubbles in my face and making gurgling grunts. We took pictures of her before we were yelled at for being too far away from the group. I swam with a sea lion: a legitimate, live, wild sea lion in her natural habitat! This is better than Sea World!

I was so terribly cold after snorkeling that I couldn't stop shaking until I'd consumed four cups of hot coffee and layered fleece up to my eye balls. One of the crew members teased me about how much I shake. For those of you who've had the pleasure of seeing me in an Ohio winter know how violently I shake. I'm worried that I won't be able to stay warm enough for longer than a half-hour in the water. The Pacific is warm, but the Humboldt current sweeps icy water from the South. It's the reason why penguins are able to live on the Equator but also the reason why I wimp out of swimming here. Mama Isa has tried to stuff me with carbs in the last 10 days but I have yet to acquire the layer of blubber under my skin to keep me warm.

The crew brought us to the island before dinner to show us land iguanas and more sea lions. Each alcove had a harem of females jealously guarded by an enormous alpha male bellowing his claim over them as he patrols the coast. Quite a few pups played among the protective crown of rocks on the beach. They make me want to weep gumdrop tears, they're so adorable. They are sleek as satin when wet but velveteen fur balls once the sun reaches them. It's amazing how they can simply not care less about what you're doing. Santa Fe belongs to them and they know it.

Our dinghy ride back to the boat at sunset was punctuated by white-tipped fins protruding from the water and nervous titters. We just snorkeled in the same bay.

Food on the boat is very enjoyable so far. We still eat rice, but it's brown. We have salad. We have vegetables in olive oil—not smothered in mayonnaise. We have PASTA! Glorious spaghetti! Cake! American food! I know I'm being ethnocentric but I've had enough freaking white rice to last me a life time. No mas. Really. I mean it. Mom, please don't make rice for the entire month of December, the entire month of January, and so on. Blech.

The crew of the Golondrina seems very sweet. One of the younger ones, Randy, came up to talk to me last night as I was trying to write and I was able to carry on a conversation in Spanish—mostly.

We set sail in fifteen minutes for a seven hour sail to our next island. This is truly an adventure of a lifetime.

Day 1 of the Galapagos

The fish market and the curious, brave sea lions and pelicans

A huge tortoise!

Our boat: the Golondrina

(copied from my hand-written journal)

October 12, 2009
Location: Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos
Time: 9:19 PM (2 hours behind Ohio)
Weather: Cloudy and rainy upon arrival—not pleasant island-ish weather

I should be exhausted. I slept one hour on the bus and one on the plane to the Galapagos. Over than that, I've had no sleep in the past two days. The bus picked us up bright and early at 2:30 AM from the Fundacion so I found no reason to try to sleep. Instead of catching a few winks at “home” then attempting to call a taxi at 2 AM, wrestle my luggage out the door, and lock the gate without waking Mama Isa and Manuel up, I opted to stay at the school overnight. Everyone chose the same fate. Narcisa was kind enough to allow it so I got quite a bit of much needed internet time in.

The four-hour ride was horrendous. I've become an excellent sleeper during bus travel because it's so long and tedious, but when everyone is grumpy and tired and about to toss the closest person over the next cliff, it's very difficult to enjoy it. Here is how our trip started:

“So,” the bus driver asked, after we all loaded onto the bus at exactly 2:30 like we were told, “where am I taking you folks?”

Narcissa to the rescue! We called her frantically and she was already on her way with her son, who accompanied us to the airport in Guayaquil. We arrived grumpy and whiny and I regret to inform you that there were many gringo fits pitched the whole way through the mountains: it was too hot, it was too cold, the time was bad to drive, the flight was late, the roads were bad, the food was bad, there was no food, etc., etc., all at a very loud volume. It's times like those when I would prefer not to associate with Americans and simply represent myself and my God, not an entire population of people known for exactly this type of behavior.

Being a good example of Christianity is difficult, I feel, when you have a wide vocabulary composed of even the offensive words. It's a bad habit of mine to swear but I feel like doing something like whining all the time would be far worse and far more offensive than flavoring my statements with a little pepper. I am definitely trying to keep a positive attitude on the trip, even when I'm exhausted, like today. I'm typically a pessimist (wonder who I got that from!) but trying to be an optimist and an encourager has made me feel a lot better when everyone else has steam pouring from their ears. Several have noticed and commented. I hope I can keep it up.

We flew into the Baltra airport on Santa Cruz (which is actually a glorified driveway with a barn for customs) and drove across the island to Puerto Ayora, where our boat is docked in Accademy Bay. The boat, the Golondrina is fairly small for the 16 of us but I've found that I am quite spaciously accommodated because of the multitude of drawers, shelves, and nooks to stash my stuff. I'm sharing a cabin with Megan Post for the week and I'm glad. She is sweet, calm, happy, and doesn't whine or gossip. (Speaking of happy, Professor Melampy is a totally different person in Ecuador: he is downright cheery! It should make the trip much more pleasant.)

I had my first full meal of fish since I was a wee youngin today. Aren't you proud of me, Daddy? I was eating my delicious lunch on the boat and remarking on how tender and delicious the chicken was when Melampy told me it was fish. But that doesn't mean I'll eat Ohio fish, Dad. You'll have to fish in the Galapagos for that to happen again.

After getting somewhat settled in our cabins, we all were ferried back to shore to visit the Darwin Research Center to see marine iguanas, land iguanas, and loads of tortoises, including Lonely George, the sole remainder of the Pinta Island turtles. It took a while for our guide to pick George out among the bushes, but we saw him! “He will not reproduce,” our tiny, wrinkly, adorable old guide told us, chuckling to himself. “He is either sterile or gay!”

Sea lions are everywhere. Their audacity exceeds that of any animal I've ever encountered, including Canadian geese, because they feel the right to take over space anywhere they please, including boardwalks, buoys, and boats—unoccupied or occupied.

We had 1 ½ hours of free time to explore Santa Cruz before dinner so we shopped in the port. It's a sadly touristy place, complete with high prices (shocking after cheap Cuenca), discotheques, and what appears to be a strip club. Lovely.

I have been musing over foods we'd like to eat since beginning the 11 hour journey to get here. We saw an Italian place and decided to honor our heritage by eating there and refuel our depleted garlic tanks (think I'm lying? You must not be Italian...). Upon discovering its dark windows, we opted for lobster instead. It was divine. No rice, no plantains, just sheer heaven. Everyone but Brittany Goetz, who joined us half-way through the meal, was about drowning in their own drool when they found out. Rice and fish for them. Bwahahaha. On the way out of the restaurant we saw a full, perfect double rainbow. Then I ate an entire bar of dark chocolate between town and the ship. It was a beautiful day.

There's no place like "home"

Hello to everyone! I hope to have time to post my Galapagos blogs but if not, I just want to let everyone know I'm well and safe in Cuenca. Love you all!

Oct. 10~The Gringa Realizes She is a Gringa

Sorry for the lack of posts in the last few days. I will try to get more information up tomorrow. The Reader´s Digest version
1. I went to a discotequa (sp?) with my cousin Leslie, Nate, Kara, Angela, and Adam. It was loud and fun but Ecuadorian men have a strong sense of entitlement to everything, including the Gringa having fun with her girl friends. There were a few unwanted dance partners and several clever maneuvers to get away from them. Don´t worry, Dad, I am not even swayed in the slightest to bring home a Latin man. I miss Trevor so much.
2. The unwated attention is not just in the club but on the street, in stores, everwhere I go. Being a gringa means carrying a reputation for being easy. (Muchas gracias, Hollywood!) It means getting whistled at, honked at, stared at, hit on, given the once over, etc., every day. I am really, really tired of it. I do not feel like I am a rude person but it makes me want to be rude. Thank God most of my clothes are baggy, or Trevors. I wear his shirt and his sweatshirt out and about. At least it also means getting into clubs for free, not paying the cover charge!
3. Today my family took me to a water park an hour away in the mountains. I will never be satisfied with Great Wolf Lodge for, what, like $30 a person? When I swam in a pool overlooking the Andes as far as the eye can see when it cost only $3.
Mas mañana, folks. La discotequa adventure ended at 2 AM. (Again, no worries. I was between a 6 ft. guy and an ex marine all night. Totally safe.
Love you all!!!

Oct. 7: The Gringa Plays Frogger in Traffic

October 7, 2009

Location: Cuenca

Time: 9:22 PM

Weather: Cloudy with rain in the morning, hot in the afternoon

Yesterday I couldn't write much because of my homework load and other unforeseen circumstance.

Yesterday afternoon was the most fun I've had in Cuenca so far. About 10 of us went to the “Wunderbar,” a German-owned bar/ restaurant on Calle Larga rated high in my travel guides as being an über-trendy place to be at night. We decided to hit it up for happy hour before we had to be back at school. It's a beautiful place right on Cuenca's southern river, Tomebamba, (it has three or four surrounding the), with greenery and a lovely view. We met a 25-year old Canadian there who had decided to leave the cold of North America to live cheaply in the heart of Ecuador. Wanna know how much his rent costs living here in the city? $60. No, that isn't a typo. 6-0 dollars a month. He splits it with his Ecuadorian room mate, but he said it's just as nice as the $2,000 a month apartment he had in Canada. The guy was a bit shady and smelled of goat, however, so our general consensus was that he was into some sort of illegal business that allowed him to pay the $30,000 to get here—or else he was very rich and very lucky in the stock market business he's in.

Dancing with Pancho was hilarious. His shouts of, “Uno, dos, tres... cinco, seis, siete, BASICO!” will forever be ingrained into my mind as I dance Salsa. We danced for well over two hours and ended laughing. Leslie, Nate's sister (and my cousin) invited us to go dancing tomorrow night so I just might.

Today was okay.

I really resent Profesora Isabel (not to be confused with Mama Isabel) sometimes for pushing us so hard. I feel bad for it because she really is a nice woman, but when the other class has a paragraph of homework and our class has two full sheets of irregular verb conjugation, three chapters of Spanish literature, and a corresponding sheet of questions, I get very resentful. The most frustrating thing about learning a new language is the fact that self-expression through words is my major. I am used to having a firm handle on a language and bending it to fit my own ideas. There isn't a book I feel I can't tackle (okay, with the exception of James Joyce's Ulysses) or a paper I can't whip into shape with the help of a bit of effort and reflection. Now the language is tying me up and dragging me over the cobble-stone streets of Cuenca. Not being able to express myself orally or in writing is driving me absolutely insane. I'm too impatient (and proud) to accept the fact that I'm back to a pre-school vocabulary, relying on the pictures in my Spanish book to tell me what the story is about. After the four hour class period today, I was on the verge of a panic attack thinking about all the homework due tomorrow. A couple of the other girls saw what was happening and gave me a big hug to calm me down. You all know I've never been good at handling stress. This is no different. I'm sorry this sounds like whining but I need to get it out of my system here so I don't take it out on an unsuspecting Ecuadorian.

The girls in my class sat down this afternoon to work on the homework and we got all of the reading summarized. Two of the work sheets were not difficult—just time-consuming.

I told Mama Isa I wasn't coming home for lunch (almuerza)so we could work on our homework. We went to a corner cafeteria and got the almuerza deal. Most restaurants serve an ever-changing menu that includes soup, rice, meat, vegetables, juice, and some sort of desert for a set price. Today's special was soup with yuca (a potato-like root of the yuca plant—not yucca—which is the same as cassava, I think) and meatballs in a clear broth. The meal was fried rice with sausage, peppers, raisins (weird), onions, peas, and a fried egg laid overtop. A glass of fruit juice and sliced strawberries in syrup were also included. In America, a full meal at McDonald's costs about $5. The almuerza deal was $1.50. Amazing. I can't get over the prices. Rolls are about $.10 each and are the airiest puffs I've ever eaten. Panaderias are on every corner filling the air with a smell that practically grabs you by the collar and pulls you in.

City living is...city living. Walking to school is about 15 minutes, which is nice. I'm going to have buns of steel by the time I come home. The bad part about walking is having to cross Pumapungo, a four-lane road with a 5-second walk signal. I do not exadurate. I thought I was pretty darn good at jaywalking thanks to Bagley Road at B.W. Three days of hiking through the city has taught me that Bagley is NOTHING. Crossing roads is like playing Frogger: only the sharpest get across without getting squished. A big difference between America and Ecuador is the traffic rules. In America, you can get pulled over for any miniscule infraction. In Ecuador, you can run red lights, not use your turn signal, use stop signs like yield signs or signs that simply ignore them, run over pedestrians, go double the speed limit, drink and drive, do anything, really, without consequences. The police are few and far between and are able to be bribed with a few bucks for any given violation. We've heard many stories about bribes given to get out of arrests, impoundments, and even passport violations. So my walk to the Fundacion at 7 AM definitely wakes me up!

Mom, Dad, family, friends, don't think Ecuador is a lawless wasteland of corruption. Everyone is very nice and extremely accommodating. It's just different. :)

I love you all!!!

Oct. 7: The Gringa learns to dance

Thank you all for your emails and prayers! I'm sorry I am unable to reply to everyone individually but getting adjusted takes up the entire day and I only have internet at the school. I have been going to bed every night at 9:30 or 10. Walking to and from school wears me out because of the altitude and the brain power it takes to get through the day is exhausting.

Yesterday, we had dance lessons at the Fundacion at 4. A bunch of us got together at 2:30 to go out together to, uh, "loosen up." I learned that a Cuba Libre is rum, coke, and lime, is very delicious, is pretty strong, and, as Brad Paisley says, "helps white people dance." I was a dancing queen!

Blah, blah, blah. I shouldn't be drinking. But I was with like 13 people--totally safe. And it's totally legal. And we were only two blocks away from the school.

The bar on Las Escalinas (Just south of Calle Larga at the end of Hermano Miguel) is called Wunderbar. Owned by a German couple, it's trendy, relaxing, and incredibly expensive by Cuencano standards. By expensive, I mean beer is $3 instead of .50 cents. Still vastly cheap by American standards. We were the only ones in the bar and we took over completely. Adam bought the first round of drinks for all of us and I sent one back over to him by the end of our time there. I sat next to Nate at the bar staring at the lines of bottles stretching out like the upcoming days. Sometimes I don't know how I'll get through this trip. Other times, I am so in love with the experience I think I'll never want to leave. Maybe another few cuba libres will help me decide.

Needless to say, we had a LOT of fun. All of us were tripping over our left feet, laughing, and bonding, finally able to relax and not think quite so hard as we had been.