January 22, 2010 - Day 16
I arrived in Quito, Ecuador at 8pm. I found a nice little hotel and got ready to go out. The hotel was $20 a night and the clerk didn't speak a word of English. Actually, the only people I saw that spoke any English were the guys on the street promoting the bars, and of course the guy yelling "HOOKERS!" at the airport. Of course, I immediately befriended that guy on Facebook. (Kidding, Ma!)
I walked around a bit, stopped in a few places. I sang a song in a karaoke bar. One place had an $8 cover, but unlimited drinks once inside, so I felt compelled to stay there for a few. A bit exhausted from the flights, I packed it in fairly early.
January 23, 2010
Jammed in a crowded bus I had $40 mysteriously go missing from my pocket despite my caution. Certainly not the end of the world, but it soured my day. If a few bucks nicked out of my pocket is the worst to come, that's fine. I am just upset it happened so early in the trip. I really don't like the feeling that I have to constantly be concerned of the true intentions of the people around me. I would gladly pay $40 or, in fact, much more not to be forced into pessimism. I had lunch and hopped a bus towards the beach. The plan is to start the vacation over in Manta.
***
The bus was an experience in itself. The 7 hour ride was accompanied by absolute blaring music and disco lights except during the Thai movie they threw on. It had neither English nor Spanish subtitles. I figured they didn't want me to feel left out so they put on something that no one could understand. I am trying to get used to some of the Ecuadorian nuances, like when a man's bare leg is pressed firmly against another man's bare leg for 7 hours on the bus, that's 'OK'. They caught a guy trying to steal something from one of the other guys on the bus. They didn't even kick him off. I guess I'll get used to that too, but Ecuador gets a big frowny-face on the report I plan to give them for that one.
There are, of course, some things I love that I neglect to mention. For instance, seeing a grown man ride a donkey down the street is fantastic. Playing a good ol' game of 'count how many people you can fit in a 2-seater pickup' can be a larf. I saw an 11, that's my personal best (and 4 on a motorcycle). I am sure that won't hold up long. The scenery is superb; the rolling hills, every inch of which covered with green, random waterfalls spurting from the rainforests. However, I am gonna say it... they are filthy. I have been around, and China is a close second with people spitting on the floors of the restaurants. I didn't even mind that so much. I am by no means a 'clean freak', but don't dump your garbage in the street... and tell your friends.
I apologize for being so quick to judge. I know all of Ecuador is not like that, and I am bound to have a Dane Cook approved 'blasty-blast' over the next few days. But I calls em' likes I sees em'. I went out to the discos for a bit, but I am having trouble getting past the language barrier to really meet anyone. In Mexico or Cuba, my 'spanglish' accompanied by their 'ingspeÑol' is usually enough to half-ass a conversation. I'll work on it.
I'm calling it relatively early tonight, and going to think beaches and rainforests tomorrow.
January 24, 2010 - Manta
Today was a hundred times better. I realize now that I can't quite fit in with the commoners. So, I did what us North Americans do best, throw money at our problems. I rented a nice place right on the beach. I had a nice dinner. I even found a place to watch the football playoffs. It helps that I didn't have to do any travelling today. The only distance I covered today was a leisurely cruise down the beach.
It occurs to me that they probably think I am American. I watched the game in a bar called 'American Deli' and asked for the fütbol Americano to be put on. The server was incredibly rude. I am not sure what they expect. They want to mimic Americans, but not serve any? I watched the second game on the patio of the hotel with the waves crashing against the shore; drank beer and smoked cigars. It was fantastic.
January 25, 2010
The waves were so loud I had to close the window to sleep.
I took the bus to MantaÑita (sorry, can't find the small n with a tilde). It was quite nice. Two hours in an empty bus all along the coast with unbelievable scenery.
MantaÑita is great. There are people from all over here. Though, still not many English speakers. It is extremely laid back. You can tell in the way they walk, no one is in a hurry anywhere. It's a small town, but the beach is packed. The people seem to be mostly budget travellers and your typical poverty stricken locals, so not much money floating around. The place I rented was about the nicest I'd seen, but still nothing special. No hot water and a door that barely latches. It has a bug-net around the bed, which is cool, except it means there must be enough bugs to necessitate such an apparatus. The people are F'n gorgeous here. And not just the women! I've seen a couple of fellas that have made me contemplate my sexuality. The dress code is anything goes and there is a gazebo in the middle of town where there are free shows every night. Very cool.
I had bought a small shoulder-bag in Quito to relieve my backpack from some stress. I noticed a large gouge through the side of it on the bus. Someone tried to go through the side of it. I am a bit impressed that someone could do that without my knowledge, as I have been extremely leery. The bag was $2 and I'd planned to chuck it at the airport on the way home. They decided they didn't want my towel, which was about all I had in there. I am sure there are some nice Ecuadorians out there. Unfortunately, you are hidden behind beggars and thieves.
Uh-oh, I feel a rant coming on....
OK, I began to feel sorry for you people, living in poverty and covered by filth. But here's the thing, there are hundreds of you sitting around, basking in the decay that is your home. Maybe you don't know any better, but it would be so easy to have sanitary conditions if you got off your ass. OK, you have no money... But then maybe you shouldn't have thirteen children. This goes for people of all nationalities. If you don't have any money, don't have children! .... and tell your friends. I find it extremely difficult to have compassion for people who bring other people into this world if they don't have the means to support them. ----Holy s---, the bug net only works if the bugs are on the outside! That was a big one! Sorry----- Maybe your children will be lucky enough to survive the turmoil of their youth, but are their children? Overpopulation may not be as much of a problem in your generation, but it very well may be a few down the road. A statistic I once read stated that every 28 years the Earth doubles its population. If this still holds true, it means every extra child you have will result in over 100 people in 7 generations. Mankind has been around quite a while, but can certainly not thrive for another 200 years at the way we reproduce. Who is going to show restraint? Us educated types who can actually afford offspring? How about you, homeless Joe!
....I feel better.
January 26, 2010
Last night was quite entertaining. Apparently it is Argentinian spring break, and that is where all the beautiful people are from. I met a few girls from Seattle, so I was actually able to speak English for the first time in quite a few days. The majority of the night I spent consorting with an interesting combination of people. There was a Chilean, an Argentinian, and a Colombian sitting with me in a German bar drinking Ecuadorian beer.
Today was superb. I spent quite a bit of time with my beloved ocean. I went for a hike in the rainforest, which was very calming. There was a stream that ran along the main path. Occasionally it would cross the path, and you would have to wade through to get across. At one point it had pooled in the middle of the trail and there were children swimming in it. The people I passed were very friendly. Not one of the burro riding hombres went by without an 'hola'. I mainly stuck to treading trodden trails, but for a short stint I mustered up some Indiana Jones-like courage and battled through the thick of it. Moments later, I heard a rustling that I could only assume was some sort of forest alligator hunting me, so I got the hell out of there.
Some people are not meant to own sunglasses. I bought a pair this morning to replace the ones I had recently broken, and I lost them this afternoon.
Later, things went awry. When I got back to my room, I had a flushed sensation that I recognized immediately. If you have never experienced heat stroke before, I highly suggest it! It combines the wonderful feelings of freezing and burning up at the same time, followed by an interminable bout of trying not to poo yourself. Maybe I should try and market it as a laxative...
January 27, 2010
It took me 5 liters of water and 16 hours in bed to regain the ability to eat a banana. During that spell I experienced an unrelated suffering that would give 'Chinese Water Torture' a run for its money. I call it 'Ecuadorian Squishee Torture'. For 14 straight hours, during my writhing agony, on the other side of the wall above my head, which had acoustics that could rival that of the Gibson Amphitheater, was a ceaseless SQUISHEE sound (I am still working on my onomatopoeia). It was the same sound your shoe would make when you took a step after stepping in a puddle, SQUISHEE. It was every 2 seconds or so, SQUISHEE, with the occasional pause of ten seconds when you thought perhaps, just perhaps, it was over. Then... SQUISHEE. I think I could have got to sleep fine with just the heat stroke bothering me, but the SQUISHEE after SQUISHEE nearly drove me insane. I couldn't... SQUISHEE... even... SQUISHEE... get a... SQUISHEE... complete... SQUISHEE... thought... SQUISHEE... in! It was gone the next day and I never found out what it was. I like to think it was a couple of frogs having sex.
***
I feel much better this evening, but I still don't think I want to be on a bus to anywhere tomorrow, so I will stay here another night.
I spent the rest of the night swaying back and forth in a hammock, reading a book, occasionally lost in a hypnotic trance, brought on by the mesmerizing waves upon the shore. Surrounded by such an ambiance, it is impossible to be distraught by any problems, be they personal or of society.
January 28, 2010
I went out for a walk and a few drinks tonight. I walked by a club that was hosting a ladies night. The bar had a DJ and was packed. It had a pool in the center and the ratio of gorgeous Argentinian women to men was at least 2 to 1. As I walked past, not even considering going in, I realized that I'd passed that point in my life. I've always disliked dance clubs, but the concept of picking up women managed to draw me in once every year or two. I don't think I am too old or grown up for it now. I just can't see myself being attracted to a person I'd met in such a place. Maybe that's what maturity is...
January 30, 2010
Yesterday was a travel day for me, many long hours on a bus and not much excitement. Except, of course, for the transvestite on the bus who was shaking his breasts at anyone he could get a glance from. Oh, and the old beggar who would takes swings at everyone who didn't give him money.
Today I am having a relaxing day in a nice hotel. I've ordered room service, had a bath and watched an Adam Sandler / Drew Barrymore movie. If that wasn't gay enough, I finished reading Elizabeth Gilbert's 'Eat, Pray, Love'.
I did really enjoy the book, but a lot of it is about a 'spiritual journey' she takes, that I feel the need to talk about. She travels to India to find 'God' and she does this through Yoga (not quite the same as our westernized exercise) and meditation. I have tried meditating before. I have been unsuccessful as of yet, but I am inspired to try again, and not to find God. Feel free to disagree with me on any of this, as it is truly only opinion, and I do not mean to offend anyone. I believe that meditation is quite frequently being misinterpreted around the world. The mind is a powerful thing. At any given time our mind is overwhelmed by an orgy of stimulation we perceive as seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and touching. That bull---- consumes, oh let's say, 95% of what your brain has to offer, leaving maybe 5% to be split up to rational thinking, decision making, your girlfriend, your mother, your dog, getting laid, what you are going to do tonight, Tom Cruise, etc. Meditation is a technique used to get around all the rubbish by using sensory deprivation. You begin by simply thinking about nothing. Seems easy enough... not so much. You'll find your mind wants to go in a million different directions, and it is nearly impossible not to let it.
Have you ever noticed; when you are driving down a long country road, you do some of your best thinking? It doesn't work if you are a passenger. I have been on many buses and planes lately and know it's not the same. It's because you have one simple task to focus on. The rest of your mind is free to delve further than if you were doing nothing, mind restless. Try sitting in a room doing nothing, but eyes open. See how well you can concentrate on any given subject. Then try the same, but with a simple task at hand. Elizabeth Gilbert speaks of moving a pile of one million buttons to another pile, one at a time. I personally think best lying on my back, throwing a ball up in the air. You can think better because your mind isn't able to stray without your permission. Meditation is taking that to the next level, taking the number of things on your mind down to zero. It is thinking about absolutely nothing, so your mind can be free to harness its true power. Many people believe they are seeing God, or heaven. This is fine. I don't want to condemn people for being spiritual in their journey. I do, however, want to let others know that isn't the end of it. In your own mind you will be talking to yourself, and you will find whatever you are looking for. If you want to find God, you will find God. If you want to find Satan, you will find Satan. If you want to find pizza, you will likely have yourself the best slice of your life. I personally want to meditate so I can rehash old 'Seinfeld' episodes with me as the role of Jerry. Whatever! If I fail at meditating, I will probably try to find (or create) some sort of sensory deprivation chamber. Though it does seem a little lazy...
***
My time in Ecuador is almost over. I certainly don't regret coming down, and I did enjoy much of this trip. However, of the places I've been, it definitely sits on a lower echelon. I have been to under-industrialized countries before and, in fact, they can be some of my favourites. I typically find that the locals go out of their way to accommodate you, and you can usually entertain yourself with any number of activities at fairly inexpensive prices. In Ecuador, I never got these impressions. The locals had very little money and, even though I was a tourist and ready to spend, they seemed more intent on scamming or stealing from me than making sure I had a good time and would send a little their way. The only activities that were of real interest were put on by foreigners. I did go into one tourist shop that was run by an Ecuadorian. For a ridiculous price, he would have driven me around in his car for the day and show me some arrowheads and wildlife (he showed me a picture of the wildlife I would see; it was a picture of deer in a pen). It's too bad, Ecuador is a beautiful country... covered with garbage.
February 6-8, 2010 - Super Bowl
Joined by my brother, I set off down the Florida coast. Next stop, Miami. If you haven't already gathered, I am a bit of an NFL fan. We don't have Super Bowl tickets, but where better to be than in the heart of the action. We got into town the Saturday night before the game. It was late, but we decided to venture out in downtown Miami for a drink. A drink is all we got. We found an Irish place that should certainly have been named 'The Fire Hazard'. Though it wasn't a huge place, it was so packed, it must have taken us 20-30 minutes to make it to the bar and get a drink. It was the bipedal equivalent of a traffic jam. The band was good, but we didn't stay long.
Despite popular beliefs, it wasn't especially hard to find a place to stay in town. We found a classy little spot that even pumped their own black on black hardcore porn into all the rooms. Needless to say, we didn't spend a lot of time in the room and headed towards the stadium early. Eight hours early in fact. A few laps around the grounds to scope out the upcoming scene and we settled in at the nearby casino to take in the game on the big-screen. After a decent game with outstanding results and mediocre commercials, we paid our impressive $100 tab on $2 beers and sought out the ensuing celebrations. We met plenty of nice and interesting people; sang, danced, even jammed with street performers. We finished with a cruise down South Beach and retired. Exhausted, we left the next morning, stopping in Orlando for some fun and games.
February 14-17, 2010 - Mardi Gras
New Orleans; during Mardi Gras; one week after winning the Super Bowl... hmm... this will be a tough one to describe. Fortunately, I am sure you already know the majority of the drunken debauchery that is Mardi Gras.
My brother and I had appropriately sent away for the orange and blue tuxedos as seen in the movie Dumb & Dumber. We also watched it the night before, leaving the idiocy fresh in our minds. The first night we went out, we were plain-clothed and got a sense of the city. The following 48 hours we donned our costumes and with a cache of quotes and one-liners at our disposal, we were ready for anything...
Mardi Gras is a magnificently eccentric festival of music, parades, food, drink, and sexual ambiguity. During the daylight, we spent a lot of time taking pictures with people amongst the parades and street performers. Both of us 6 foot 3 and wearing high top-hats of bright blue and orange, we are easy to pick out of a crowd. When walking a leisurely pace, we were asked to pose for a photo every 5 steps or so. (If you see one of the thousands of pictures of us somewhere on the internet, please let me know!) At night, as the mickeys of tequila in our back pockets were closer to empty, we would be found on or near Bourbon Street where the shenanigans would transpire...
We took a copious amount of fantastic pictures, but the truly spectacular ones were the pictures we didn't take. I'll give you the gist of what I am talking about and let your imagination fill in the blanks.
Pictures we took/Pictures we didn't take
Me dancing with a couple of big black gay men The two of us getting accosted by a street full of half-naked gays and transvestites
Us with girls that will undoubtedly make it on Us being interviewed by Girls Gone Wild holding the host on our shoulders
Girls Gone Wild
My brother dancing with random ladies My brother almost getting one of the ladies arrested for attempted fellatio
Me crowd surfing down Bourbon Street Me dropping an aspiring crowd-surfer on his head. Twice!
People throwing beads A bead war that ended with myself going down hard from a strand to the face
Hundreds of New Orleans police officers marching and a half-dozen of those same police officers down Bourbon Street tackling me for knocking one of their hats off with my cane, while my brother looks on, laughing hysterically
The outside of some of the hundreds of bars and the fastest barring in history, when my bro strip clubs and I did a circle of one club, heading immediately to the strippers stage, climbing up, dancing, being asked to leave, and high-fiving everyone on the way out. Total elapsed time - 30 seconds
Mardi Gras is one more of the monumental things I can cross off my list. I may even take a decade or so to recuperate and go back. It is also the perfect conclusion for this chapter of my journey. I want to thank you again for reading. It will likely be a few months before my next chapter is ready. In the meantime, email me if you'd like to comment or share your own experiences. I'd love to hear them. Also, I'd like you to know that I got a job writing advertisements on the internet using the first chapter of this very journal as my sole experience. I am once again doing what I love for a living!
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