Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell…

Cuenca Town….okay I know technically it isn’t a town but it fits the song title.. google Gracie Fields ~ she was an old time (second war) English singer who epitomized the English stiff upper lip stuff….

So things were coming to a close. I took the bus downtown, walked from 10 de Augusto to the Carolina Book Store to exchange some books. Mission accomplished. I walked from there to the Super Maxi and felt a twinge in a tooth. No problem, these things happen. Later that evening (Wednesday) my tooth ache began in ernest. (And if I could have found Ernest, I would have beaten the shit out of him). Went to bed early because I didn’t feel so good, but lay awake most of the night. When the lack of sleep overcame the pain, I slept. When the sleep wasn’t so bad the pain woke me up. Repeat about 10-30 times…..So early doors Wednesday, I called a friend (just like the Millionaire show) and go the name and address and phone number of a dentist. Got in to see him and after x-rays, some filing down of a crown and some discussions he prescribed me some anti inflammatory pills. “If this doesn’t work you will need to see a specialist.” 20

So yet again the Fickle Finger of Fate had made an intervention. Do you remember Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In ???  Thursday morning arrived,  I thought that I might try to make the earlier bus, so as I couldn’t sleep too much I got up, took the proverbial shower and began working around the apartment to make sure things were cleaned up and that I had not left anything behind. In the second bedroom I open the drapes only for them to come unconnected with wall and fall to the floor. Bugger. I went to the panaderia only to find it closed, but on the way back, thinking like an Ecuad0ran, I picked up a large stone and a piece of wood to try to effect repairs. After effecting temporary repairs I tried to hook the drapes and net curtains up to the eyelets and lo and behold !!!! The whole effin’ lot came tumbling down…..

My landlady was very good with it but yet again I felt that I couldn’t do anything without the world falling in around me and the entire population of the world sitting back and laughing at my expense when the terrestrial t.v. showed “Candid Camera.”

I chose to take the van for a couple of reasons; one being that it was relatively cheap. The other being that I wished to say goodbye to Cuenca and Ecuador. From a plane the world below looks so anonymous, mountains, oceans or green. It could be any place. I enjoyed the trip, but not the part about leaving Cuenca. As we drove out of town towards the Cajas Mountains, roads I have walked many times, I saw the places that were so commonplace to me.

As you rise higher and higher you get to look back over the hairpin turns and elevations, the wild llamas (or alpacas) grazing in the park and the small shareholdings tucked away into the mountain.

Guayaquil arrived and the taxi driver packed me, my 2 suitcases, my backpack and two other passengers into a smart car. Are you KIDDING me ?? No problemo. A little while later I checked into the hotel. Had a fantastic meal at the Opti-Hotel café…actually I found this Spanish restaurant that I had seen on the web, sat down looked at the menu and realized that I could have had a 5 course meal, a taxi and a flight back to Houston for the price of a starter. I patted my pockets looked alarmed and told the waiter “I have lost my phone I have to find it ~ I’ll be back.” I am sure that everyone put 2+2 together and realized that I had made my exit, stage right… I don’t mind paying for a good meal, because being my last meal in Ecuador I wished to enjoy it, my first meal being a Domino’s pizza !!!!! However, I hesitated to pay for the entire family to be raised in the best school and university in Ecuador at my expense.

At the Omni I had the BEST pasta dish, whole pieces of pasta instead of single strips, salmon, shrimp in a white wine and cheese sauce. I know, I know Emeril says “NO cheese sauces with sea food” but what the hell, were the food police going to come and ticket me ???? The hotel/hostel is right around the corner from the Iguana Parque and ideally situated. As I only need a room for half the night, my flight being at 6.50 a.m. and having to be at the airport around 4.45 why pay top dollar for a room when this place is clean, comfortable and cheep. Did I mention cheep ?? Thanks Sandee.

So my very good friends and blog readers, I will leave Ecuador tomorrow morning, will be back in Houston just in the early afternoon. You can be assured good readers, that I will seriously miss the place, my friends and the ambience of this place. Guayaquil is a busy bustling mess in my humble opinion. So much so that I wasn’t even inclined to take my camera and walk around. I suppose that it would have been very safe being around 2 p.m. but it didn’t feel right or more correctly it wasn’t familiar. Cuenca was. I never thought anything about walking around with my Mo-pod, camera or any combination of the above.

I hope that sometime in the not too distant future I can return to that wonderful city and it’s wonderful people..

However the journey isn’t over, so stay tuned…….

All my life’s a circle..

Or seems to be…When I first started this blog, I was getting ready to depart from the States and sell, give or dump everything that I owned. Then I was counting the days, and if you followed from the beginning, packed my entire life in two bags. I then said goodbye to all and sundry ~ sorry Mo and Ken et al don’t mean to call you “sundry” it’s only an expression after all. I knew that it would only be “temporary” as I had to return to Tejas in order to get my replacement green card, but it was to be a “permanent” temporary really as I have to find somewhere to live. America certainly is an expensive place to live without a job and trying to exist on savings and/or a pension. 401K’s that no longer hold their worth have taken a lot from ordinary people who chose a place for their investments, hoping that this would carry them through their retirement.
Looking back I suppose that none of us thought that there would be a financial “crisis” that would impact the monies that we hoped would give us a cushion against inflation. Some sold their homes for their worth, some didn’t, some still have yet to sell. We read the stock market almost daily I guess for a glimpse that the “recession” is over or moving towards that way. I did at least until like the proverbial watched pot, it never seemed to boil. Of course governments never have to tighten their belts it seems, that being one part of the “private” sector which never seems to be affected. In fact after every election they normally manage to vote themselves a hefty pay raise.
Enough morbidity ~ it won’t change anything. Back on point, as we say. Now I have to count towards the days when I have to repack everything in those same two bags and head back out. It’s funny really in that I have gotten a feel for the city; know pretty much my way around seemingly having hiked over the entire downtown I think. I kind of know which buses go in which general direction, (thanks Chuck) and which ones take me home, and more importantly where to catch them. It is an interesting concept, because coupled with a one way system, it isn’t as if you can figure out that go over 1 block from where you got off and you can get back on a bus going back in the opposite direction. It doesn’t work that way. Out routes don’t always follow the in routes. And also remember that not everywhere the bus stops are actually a “bus stop” so it pays to kind of watch where crowds are gathering. That usually means there is a bus stop there. Usually but not always.

Turkey Day in Cuenca

After living in the States for 30 some years, I have (I think) celebrated every Thanksgiving. It is a time to be with family, and as I had none, or none in the vicinity, I got an invitation for dinner as people seemed always to feel sorry for me, luckily enough for my stomach. Now I wasn’t always a veterinarian, which means I don’t eat meat. However, since I have been one now for a boat (as our Canadian friends say) 20 years there is still plenty of food (and if you have EVER seen a table laid out at Thanksgiving you will know what I mean) to be consumed for the non carnivorous amongst us. Anyway yesterday a few friends got together at this wonderful apartment of the host and hostess which has a magnificent view of the City. Food was plentiful and there was an awful lot to eat and drink.

However, there would have been a little more to eat and drink if I had not had one of my “mishaps” and those of you who have known me through the years will nod and smile right about now. Even those who haven’t known me that long will know that Fate has determined that I cannot go through life for too long of a period without something happening. At the panaderia that morning, I purchased 2 dozen croissants and a wonderfully fresh crusty French loaf…mmmmmm….. The day previous I had taken a great long walk to the Liquor Store and purchased 2 bottles of white wine.

Roll call was set for around 4 p.m. so with my trusty Mo-pod, a bag full of pastries in one hand and the wine in the other I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the French loaf. No matter, it’s only a 25 minute walk along the river, so how difficult could it be ??? I think it was DK and Strictly Kev playing at the time, and the weather was pretty nice and I was enjoying the stroll. It was just about then, Lady Fate decided it was time to intervene. The loaf of bread fell through the bottom of the bag, and instinctively, as one does on these occasions, the thought is to grab the falling object. We don’t consciously think, “Oh well, that’s 60 cents into the dirt.” One thinks “Oh no, quick grab it before it hits the ground !!”

Well if my school boy memory serves me correctly, an object descends at the rate of 32 ft. per second, per second, or as our teacher used to say “32 ft per second SQUARED.”  Which meant nothing to a chubby 13 year old still trying to figure out who the Hammers were playing that coming Saturday. Now if I had been paying attention to this, and it not had been a distant memory, I could have saved myself a bit of grief. The distance between the bottom of the bag and the road was maybe 18 inches. My reflexes would never, even in my wildest youth, have been described as “cat like” so if you can imagine I was deeply “into” Solid Steel on the headphones, the bag broke, and the bread fell. Time stands still at times like these. (Too many Doctor Who episodes methinks). I saw my life flash before me. (Okay it didn’t, but you have to admit it does add to the drama). I grabbed for the falling loaf with the opposite hand. It was of course, a futile attempt. I mean you do the math ~ the object falling at 32 ft. per second per second, had about 1 and a half feet (maximum) to travel before it hit the ground. What hope did I honestly have of catching the crusty loaf before SPLATT !! it was spread across about 3 feet of dirt and dusty roadway ?? None. Not only did it hit the ground, but while reaching across for it with the hand that held the bag of wine…well you can guess the outcome can’t you ??

It doesn’t take an Hercule Poirot or a Miss Marple like imagination to figure it out does it ?? I can picture it now, a smile beginning to spread across your face as the picture tumbles into view. Not only did I lose my bread but also one of the bottles of Sauvignon Blanc. Chilled. Oh well… I pulled myself together as a grown man crying and screaming and throwing a tantrum alongside the Rio Tomebamba is not a pretty sight, and a crowd was beginning to gather to see what the commotion was all a boat. Okay, I wasn’t, and there wasn’t but again it paints a picture that you can almost half believe. I journeyed on, the day was incredible, and we ended up chatting way into the night, laughing so much that I almost had apoplexy. Another exaggeration of course. But it did bring to a brilliant end to another traumatic day ~ one of many for me.

As the clock ticks down to 2 weeks from the very day until I return over the Cajas to Guayaquil and head back to Tejas, I leave behind some great memories and wonderful, wonderful friends who have made my stay here something very special. Does Fate have me returning ?? And if so, when ?? And if not, where does she have me headed next ?? Whatever the outcome I can assure you that there will be more trauma filled days like these and hopefully I’ll come out of it a better more rounded person. (Yeah right ~ that’s something your parents tell you when they don’t really know the answer to the question: “Why ME ??”  (Mum said “Son there will be days like these.” Yeah, mum, but what you didn’t say was that there would be so effin’ many of ‘em).

”Where The Streets Have No Name*”

Or in this case, the town…Well there was a sign that said “Entrada a Santa Isabell” but there were no houses, churches or anything that usually relates to a small town. Anyway, my erstwhile companion and I had set out looking for a Mexican restaurant that had been recommended by a friend who owns a coffee plantation out towards the Yunguilla Valley. At the Bus terminal, in our best broken Spanglish, we ascertained that this particular bus was going via Giron towards Santa Isabella..

(Quite why we were setting forth on a bus ride in search of a Mexican restaurant that was somewhere between 17 ½ klicks from either Cuenca, the turn off to Loja or indeed from a certain monument, I really had no idea. But that was our GPS reading. Shame we didn’t have a Garmin, eh ?? There are several very good Mexican restaurants in town from what I understand. Oh well, it made for a good adventure AND a blog entry. Can’t be all bad…).

At a turn off for Santa Isabella, through our initial contact at the Terminal Terrestre the conductor” insisted” this was where we wanted. It wasn’t of course; we had missed the restaurant, if it ever existed, but now we found ourselves in the mid 1950’s “On a Dark Desert Highway” missing only Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper, or maybe Marlon Brando in “The Wild One.” There were I think we counted 15 restaurants, a couple of food stands, a petrol station and an Azuay (region) bus office. That was it. Oh well, hunger overcame our fears of being kidnapped, tied up and tortured in the “Motel Hell” and we set down to eat. Of course the “gringo menu” came over and it was explained that the item marked 4.50 was not 4.50 but really 5.00. And the item without a price was in fact 4.00. We ordered a beer each, water, one sin gas, and one con gas. Two aquas sin gas arrived. When my companion pointed this out, we were told that they don’t have con gas. Perhaps they did out back, but for us they weren’t going to make that walk (just kidding ~ Ecuadorans are the most helpful of people). There were 2 different fish dishes we assumed one cooked one style and one another, so we order one of each which when they arrived looked identical. They were. Americans in America would have sent it back and made the staff re-order. But maybe it was our inability to convey what we wanted. It was delicious and plenty of it and for 4 dollars we couldn’t complain. We sat and chatted and got on the bus back. One great part about the Ecuadorans is that the bus drivers at major stops allow vendors to get on and try to peddle their wares. Everyone is trying to make a living and if they can sell an item or two then they and their families have made a bit towards making ends meet. I don’t believe that there is a welfare system here for the unemployed, I’ll have to google, and so everyone works or goes without. It also happens at road works and toll booths. This “allowance” is a wonderful concession to people. I imagine that the bus lines could prevent it happening and no one on the bus seems at all put out about it. The vendors are not pushy or obtrusive, you hold up your hand or shake your head and they move on. Car salesmen in the states could learn a thing or two, I think.

The following Sunday we made an almost identical trip, this time ending up in Santa Isabella itself. A small market town, which we walked around (but be warned it is STEEPLY uphill and downhill). We ate lunch, and rode home. An eventful week. Oh and my companion found the restaurant on the way back.  It looks nothing like a restaurant, especially zipping by at about 60 kmph from a coach seat that is bouncing you up and down en route.

• A great song by the way, from U2..”The Joshua Tree” album in case you’re interested ~ possibly their last classic album, in my humble opinion.

A trifecta…

Last evening (Sunday 1^st) saw my good friends Nancy and Chuck ask if I would like to join them to go to the fair and then on to the Parque de la Madre for fireworks and celebrations. Tomorrow the 2^nd is Independence Day for Cuenca. I walked down to their apartment where our other good friends Nancy and Rich joined us. We got into 2 separate cabs and off we went. The day had turned quite chilly from what had begun a very nice day.

The local fair was exactly that. I hadn’t seen stuff like this since I was a kid. Well we didn’t have combined earth moving equipment at OUR fairs, but sponsorship being what it is these days….

We meandered everywhere taking in the local atmosphere. There were the regular fair rides, the Ferris wheel, the roundabouts, the Carousels. The mandatory ghost train.  It reminded me of the time (the ONLY time) when my ex-wife, I, and some friends were at a fair and she insisted that I take her on the ghost train. She was screaming and scared. That was before we got into the car !!! So after things jumping out and things hanging from the ceiling she was so fraught that doing the husbandly thing, I thought “I’ll comfort her.” I put my arm around her and she proceeded to go all Janet Leigh on me and batter the snot out of my arm. “There’s something on me there’s something on me…” “Yes dear” I quietly informed her, “it’s me trying to comfort you, but I’ll obviously stop now as it is causing you much distress.” Or words to that effect.

Anyway, we proceeded to walk around and we found ourselves over by the animals. I steered well clear of the llamas (I don’t think they were alpacas) as some of you more avid followers (if I have any) of my blog will know, I nearly got trampled to death by a herd of llamas (or alpacas) at Ingapirca.

We move over by the horses and there were some feisty steeds there. Ego took over for one young man and he was walking this yearling (it couldn’t have been much more) around on a short lung line. Someone asked him something, his attention wandered off and so did the animal he was “exercising.” He managed to retrieve said animal, but of course the horse enjoyed its short found freedom and wanted more. It pulled free again, ran across the yard and got into it with another young stud or mare, or both.

Oh, game on !!!!!  They retrieved the horse once again and by now the thing decided it was fun to run around the yard, on its own, and take issue with other stallions and/or mares or in fact any other horse behind bars that it could. Well they in turn decided that it would be fun to try to kick or stamp their way out of their stalls.

In the meantime, the crowd of people in the yard, and there were quite a few, maybe 100 or there about, were trying to evade being trampled to death. I have worked with and ridden horses before. They weigh quite a bit and when moving forward take some stopping (which is why I have always admired jockeys and their infinite skill at moving a 600 pound race horse around a track surrounded by upwards of 150 K people). I digress.

Now I know you are asking yourselves, “Where are the gringos in all of this ?” Well Rich was taking a film, Nancy, Chuck and Nancy were all moving for cover.. Me ?? If I were taking photos you would have seen a blue screen. That would be the back of Rich’s jacket as I was cowering behind him !!!!

The best way to halt a stampeding horse is to stand with your arms outraised at your side. He stops or moves. Oh yeah I have seen more John Wayne movies than not, and when cattle or horses stampede you lie still and they jump over you. Right. How many times does the next frame show the wranglers standing over the grave of their fallen comrade usually the cook whose wagon got overturned in the melee ?

They finally managed after what seemed an eternity to retrieve the animal and relocate it to another part of the yard. When we looked around the crowd appeared again and looked for the quickest escape route. As did we. It’s amazing how many people you can cram in the womens toilet when an emergency takes place. So, let’s see, nearly trampled to death by a herd of llamas (or alpacas), nearly savaged by a beast of Hound of the Baskerville  like proportions and now nearly trampled to death by a rampaging stallion.

It is no coincidence that during the time of the World Series, the thought came to me, 1, 2, 3 strikes and you’re out at the old ball game…

December the 11^th won’t come around soon enough at this rate. I am going to look for bubble wrap, heaping of cotton wool, and anything that can keep me safe until I exit. I am also NOT going to undertake any dangerous or similar outings, and maybe, just maybe I’ll get out of Dodge in one piece.

There’s still 5 weeks to go though…….

Call Me Ismael

I always wanted to quote that, although it might confuse people who know me, because that isn’t my name. A split personality disorder perhaps ??
That is one of the most famous opening lines of American Literature. Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. The Great White Whale. (I was having a chat with a best friend’s son a short time back. “Do you ever read classics like Moby Dick at school ?” “No.” “We did” I told him…… “But then again they weren’t classics when you were young were they ?” he said. Nice one Ross.….)
Courtesy of Wiki ~ “Through the main character’s journey, the concepts of class and social status, good and evil, and the existence of gods are all examined as Ishmael speculates upon his personal beliefs and his place in the universe.”
I am not one to speculate upon my place in the universe, for as one of my best friend’s likes to opine “I’m too deeply superficial for that.” So today while contemplating what I would do if my visa extension was denied after already changing my return flight to the U.S., I must admit to a passing notion as to would the world stop on its axis if they refused ?
After taking me to the officer who gave me the details of what was necessary in order for it to be granted, they sent me upstairs to the “top perro.” Then he took me downstairs to the office where I began my journey. Oh well, nice to know that bureaucracy is alive and well even in Ecuador and that it remains the same the world over. Short version ~ went to Copa Airlines and got my new ticket, took it back with a copy to the immigration services and voila !! a 12-X visa extension which coincidentally enough expires on the day that I leave…Hmmm….
We went to a great birthday lunch last week, 3 of us (Nancy, Chuck and myself) sharing within a week of one another. A bunch of friends getting together for a midweek seafood lunch outside ~ it couldn’t be better. I was discussing the “process” with a friend, (another Nancy) and she was explaining the intricacies of moving somewhere new. A 12-X visa gives you 6 months here. There are several pre-requisites which as this isn’t that kind of blog, I won’t go into in great detail. However, stay longer as a potential resident and those pre-requisites go into overdrive. For example, when I came in I was given a 90 day stay, no questions asked. For an extension I now had to prove that I could support myself financially. They never asked how much money I had when I arrived and so for 90 days I could have been indigent. Ask for 45 days more and they need proof that I am not !!!
Nancy had mentioned that when she and her husband Rich went from 12-X status to filing for residency they were required to take an HIV test et al. I often wonder why all of a sudden they require you to confirm your health status, because after all you have already been here for 6 months.
I managed to get a 12-X extension here, but do it from the States and I need a police report to say that I have no criminal record. So effectively I will have been here for 4 and a half months without anyone knowing if I have a criminal record or not (I don’t by the way), but if I wish to come back on another 12-X I have to provide proof. Don’t you just love immigration rules and regulations wherever you are ? Still I have to laugh a bit because all of the proofs that you need to enter a place, afterward you are almost impossible to trace if you don’t leave.
Tourists bring money into an economy, and in a country especially those looked upon as “third world” those dollars are needed even more so. However, it seems as though they shoot themselves in the foot by making things difficult for those folks who seek to invest in some way in the economy. I have a friend going on vacation to the Philippines. 21 day visa. Doh !!!!!! Apparently you can pretty much keep extending it almost indefinitely, but of course a fee is required. It keeps beaurocracies alive and well and an “invisible” currency moving around. Allegedly.
I am not sure how long it will be if and when I can return to this wonderful city. I go outside my front door and can look up into the mountains. I will have done it maybe twice a day for 135 days by the time that I leave, yet it still takes my breath away. I don’t know how many times I walk the river. It never seems to get boring. Downtown ~ something new every day. Now after maybe 3, 5, 10 or 20 years, like most places it may get boring.
My great friend Kat lives in Seattle which I visited a few years back. Although she had also lived in Utah for a while, she grew up in Seattle. We drove towards downtown maybe 5-6 times during my vacation and the “shadow” overlooking Seattle is Mount St. Helen’s*. Breathtaking, I remember telling her. What a great view it was going southwards. She told me, “You know Os, I never tire of that view. NEVER.” I know that there must be places in the world like that. Maybe this is one. Who knows ??
*We visited it while I was there. Wanna know what it looked like ? Close your eyes. You were there !! The fog was so thick that you couldn’t see the mountain from the viewing platform…

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants ?

After last week’s disappointing news, it was time to get the wheels in motion. Call the airline and change the departure date. Oh good, only a 225 dollar penalty fee. Why when they are more than likely going to sell my seat anyway ?? Airlines eh ? Don’t you just love ‘em. So basically 30% of the original fare because my plans have changed. Do people’s plans not change then ? Also when I came in the 2^nd bag was at 25 dollars check in. 50 dllrs for each bag for being overweight (the bag not me). 125 for the bags, more than likely another 125 for them to get back, and then 225 to change the flight.

475 dlrs in surcharges on a 780 dllrs flight … Doh !!!

Which begs a question: I weigh about 150 lbs. or thereabouts. But my airfare is the same as someone who weights 300 or more !!! How fair (pun intended) is that ?? Do they pay baggage handlers more money per hour if a bag weighs 20 pounds or 60 pounds ?? I doubt it.. It costs more fuel to move a plane that weigh “x” rather than “y” I understand that, but nickel and diming people (or in my case, 9500 nickels and 4750 dimes) doesn’t proffer goodwill. But then again when do they care about goodwill…..??

Now I am speaking with an immigration attorney to find out when I can return. Normally it seems that it has to be 6 months after a tourist visa, but my extension will now be a 12-X so is that different ?? Time will tell. Then again, probably the law will change between now and when my Visa expires and/or when I wish to return, after locating my green card in the Homeland Security system when I get back “Stateside.” Another Homer Simpson moment no doubt.

Arrangements need to be made to get to Guayaquil, I am torn between going back the same way (in a cab) or taking the “van” a definite cost savings. With one I can get picked up here and dropped off at the hotel, with the other, a cab from here to the van place, a cab from the van place to the hotel. All with two oversized bags and a backpack weighing as much as me almost. But no surcharge for that !!!! One good part ~ a 10 dollar reduction in the hotel room if I am over 55 !!!! YEAH !!!!

I might go with the cab, because it is a very picturesque trip and I might ask the cab to stop occasionally in order for me to take a photo or more….With the van, no chance….Decisions, decisions..Murphy’s law says go with the cab and experience 10 yards visibility all the way to Guayaquil. You just KNOW it makes sense…

Life ~ It’s a funny old game, innit ?

The last couple of weeks have been fairly unspectacular really.

A couple of Sundays past, I and a couple of friends made the trip to Paute. That’s a fairly smallish town maybe 35-40 klicks north-ish from here. One of the ladies in our party wanted to buy a baby goat. She could have done because someone on the bus in the seat in front of her on the way back obviously did. Complete with a baby bottle of the mother’s milk (the goats mother, not the woman’s…).

The following days have been a bit mundane really; perhaps it was to be a lull before the storm. This past week has seen the entire planet build excitement as the qualifying games towards the next World Cup (what do you mean “which” World Cup ? There’s only one !!).

Friday evening and another Brown Out. Luckily I had managed to secure the services of Mr. Pilsner and 4 of his friends. So I sat here, tuned in the Mo-Pod to Pink Floyd and before long I was singing along to songs like: Another Brick in the Wall, Comfortably Numb (which I was becoming), and other select songs. I think that sometime later I heard my landlady come home, must have thought I had the t.v. tuned into “Britain’s Got Talent” (or in my case None Whatsoever, and had an early night). Of course the power came on too late to cook dinner. It is amazing that one can actually lose weight during these power (or lack of) events.

Ecuador were due to play Uruguay, and while many nations have already qualified ahead of the remaining two games, the South American games are pretty well still up for grabs for the remaining few openings. South America gets 4 automatic qualifiers and a 5^th place team must play off against the 4^th best team in the U.S./Mexico section. Who are the rest you ask ? Look in the dictionary under the word “minnows.” They’re the Gonzaga of football (the world kind, not the American kind).

Brasil, Chile, and Paraguay had already qualified, while Ecuador would also, provided that they could beat Uruguay in Quito. 1-0 up in the second half, they fell asleep and let Uruguay equalize, although they had their chances. The game lasts for 90 minutes plus any time that the arbitro assesses has been “wasted” or players “stalling” or even for the time taken to celebrate your goal. Imagine, don’t celebrate a goal, especially in a World Cup Qualifier. Whatever next ? Anyway at approximately 92 minutes the Ecuadorian goal keeper fouled the opposing forward in the box and “Penal !” Unbelievable. Well inevitably the player, Diego Forlan scored to put his country into the lead and almost within grasp of a place in South Africa next year.

In games elsewhere the Argentineans almost came a cropper but squeaked out a win against hapless Peru. So now the stage is set. Wednesday sees the ultimate games in the competition, with Ecuador traveling to Chile. Uruguay play host to Argentina. Should Ecuador win, then one of the other two will be eliminated. A win is the only thing that will help. A tough, tough day to be an Ecuadorian fan. The people all have their national jerseys on throughout the city,  flags are out and waving proudly.

In other news, I went to the immigration office to have my visa extended for another 90 days. This is the maximum amount of days that I can stay unless I become a resident. However, under the laws which exist today, I do not qualify. No matter, for now, let’s enjoy the end of the year, have Christmas and New Year here. Then I will have to return to the States and see where the heck Uncle Sam has hidden my Green Card. That’s too long of a story to go into, which when you know how I love to talk, will realize that even for me, it would take too long…

So with all of my papers in order, I troop to the immigration office. I ask if anyone speaks English. I don’t want to insult an immigration officer with a bastardised version of “Where do I get my visa extended por favor ?” I figure English is the way to go here. They are all so nice, despite the rolling eyes and exasperated shrugs and hand gestures to each other. Anyway, I was escorted into the chief officer’s office who didn’t speak English either. Luckily the young lady at the next desk did. They took note of my papers, told me I needed one more piece of paper, (now THERE’S a surprise) and asked when I was thinking about leaving. (My current visa expires at the end of October). “About the middle of January possibly.” Now my Spanish is somewhat limited, but “No possible” I figured meant “Not possible.” Turns out that the law now limits me to a 45 day extension and not the “usual” 90. As laws changes here constantly and sometimes from place to place, I shrugged, “Great, muchas gracias.”

No Christmas in Ecuador then. No New Year either. Oh well, c’est la vie. If I overstay I believe that I could not return again for at least 12 months. So like E.T. I call “home” and explain. Plans change. Things change fast these days from country to country. Especially South America. So now it’s a change of plans, and Christmas will be spent with my two best friends in Houston. I will be glad to see them obviously as one is when seeing people who mean so much to you. However, it will be disappointing not to spend Christmas in another culture.

So I come home, am talking to Mo on Skype (incidentally how good IS that ?). BANG.. Thunder is supposed as Mo had said that it was chucking it down where he lived. The picture had frozen, the little Skype sign was spinning and Lo! And Behold. Another Brown out..

Oh well tonight’s it David Byrne and Rei Momo, a great combination of Salsa, Meringue and other Latin Beats.. (and I have a couple of boxes of Chateau Lafite to lessen the pain)..

Oh and MNF which has been brilliant the past few weeks.

Dontchya just L-O-V-E the internet !!!!!!!!!!

As an aside and while editing this post…

I went into the bathroom. There on the floor was a spider as big as my hand. I kid you not. Those who know me, know that I am prone to exaggerate in order to make things funny. No joke here. I am not David Attenborough. This thing was black and HUGE. Like something out of a Stephen King novel. Suffice to say, I dispatched it (and I am loathe to kill even insects if I feel that they do good, maybe a “Jane” ~ Google folks).

I somehow managed to clean it up using one of the many plastic bags inside out and about 4 paper towels). I honestly haven’t seen anything like this outside of a zoo and/or a National Geographic show. Of course I could have photographed it to prove it but I was more worried about it escaping. I would never have slept tonight, heaven knows ~ suppose it has a “partner” or a few friends… Underwear changing time or sleeping on top of the wardrobe….

Reminded me of the night before Waterloo

This has been a tough past couple of days or so. The internet has been running at the speed of a snail. Unable to connect to e-mail, Facebook, Tagged, so in effect almost out of touch with the outside world. What DID we do prior to the electronic age ~ my memory fades, I don’t remember ??

Yesterday turned out to the worst though. After the internet suddenly sprang back into life, the power went out. Shades of Houston during the frequent hurricanes that I endured. What did we do in those days ?? Went to bed to sleep usually hoping that in the morning your house was still there when you woke up, and unlike Dorothy, you WERE still in Kansas. Well I picked up a book that I had already read, and began to read it again. Hopefully my memory would fade once more and I wouldn’t remember the ending. It’s at times like these that you envy a goldfish. With the memory of a nano second they pass that diver and go “Wow look at that.” Every time !! (I wonder about feeding time though, do they think “I’m starving,” eat, get full up and then think “I’m starving” again ??)

Lo and behold, the power came back on, the internet was restored and viola !! ~ contact with the outside world again. But no, that little minx that was the Cuenca Lighting and Power Company were merely teasing.  Brown Out !! No, not a football chant against the board wanting the chairman dismissed, but merely a ploy by the insidious people running the show. They gave you enough power to half light TWO bulbs, or enough power to light ONE completely.

The Bastards !! Not enough light cook by. Only enough light to go to bed by. Everything pitch black. Just before we faced Napoleon I turned to Corporal Sharpe and said “Sharpie, those bloody Frogs are in for it tomorrow lad.” It rained heavily that night and we had to shave in cold water. No fires to give away our positions, you understand.

Well the outcome was predictable, and the Froggies got what was coming to them. Luckily the Huns arrived in the nick of time or we would have been well and truly up shite creek without the proverbial paddle.  Our luck held though and the little Emperor got what was coming to him.

Oh, and in Cuenca this morning, I got up and went to my local bakery. Of course I am guessing that due to the power failures no one was able to bake last night, the usual shops are all closed so no breakfast for me on top of no dinner last evening.  Still the power is back on but my internet must be reset next door (for about the 2,673^rd time since I arrived, but who’s counting ??) so I am having a nice cup of tea. Nothing to eat of course, not even cold rations and with the exception of having power it’s JUST like the morning of Waterloo. Bet I have to shave in cold water again too.

I wonder what Sharpie is up to these days ??

In search of enlightenment

Well actually wondering what number bus went to the top of the Turi. My friends and erstwhile explorers, Nancy and Chuck said “Great idea Ossie.” Well on one occasion that I had been up there, I could have put money on the fact that I saw a city bus up there.
Of course, one can take options. A cab, or the “tourist open top bus” but me being the Stanley Livingstone of East London, decided “Stuff that. I KNOW that bus went up there.” It’s a great panorama of the city and I want to take a panorama shot. However, on this occasion it was more of a “path finding” expedition than a photo-op. (Besides lugging the camera and tripod is hard work).
Checking my tourist map, I find that the Mirador de Turi, to give it it’s exact name, is with walking distance of the Mall del Rio, where I have been before, when I needed my phone sorted. “Aha ! I am on familiar ground” I thought. “This recce will be a piece of torta.”
So clutching a couple of dollars worth of spare change I set off (you need 25 cents per ride on the bus or a multi pass) so ALWAYS have change. The conductors rarely will give it to you. The bus trip around the Avenue de las Americas isn’t half bad.

I was standing up, (read my entries about the local bus rides) when apparently the bus missed a stop. Well, you do have to ring the bell to get it to do so. There was a little indigenous lady who hardly came up to my shoulders ranting to the driver to stop. I don’t think she could reach the bell so one of the passengers helped out. She reached for this bundle by my feet, and of course being the gentleman that my dear old granddad raised, I reached down to what turned out to be about 3 baskets and some assorted stuff covered by a cloth. Stone me, I could hardly pick the thing up. I assisted her towards the salida hoping that no one noticed the bulging veins in my forehead and I struggled towards the rear of the bus. She hopped off still mad at the driver no doubt, gratefully accepting my assistance and muttered something unintelligible. She opened her arms and almost blithely and nimbly hopped off down towards her destination without a further glance back at me. She he might not have been thanking me but asking why the heck I was struggling with this load when she managed it quite easily. Hardy women these indigenous are.
Oh, the bus finally made it to the Mall, I got off, and set off towards the Turi which the map indicated was about a half to three quarters of a mile away. I found the roundabout, and the signs towards my destination which the map had indicated. About 300 yards or so (should I be metric ~ nah) I see these stone steps leading to..of course ~ upwards. So I set off. Altitude hasn’t been much of a problem for me other than at Ingapirca, which you avid blog readers might remember. Well how tough can this be ? I-pod tuned in, I set off. Well my breathing became a bit labored oh, I don’t know about the second flight. Still with 15 feet or so of pavement between this flight and the next, room for a breather. Okay, 5 or 6 flights behind me and 5 or 6 more to go. Until it turned the corner. When I was training for the New York marathon a while back (oh about *^ years ago) I used to try to break down my distance run. So this is the method I utilized. Well of course the route that I had run back then was familiar to me. Still, undaunted, I pressed on.
Turning the corner I found more steps of course. 5 or 6 more flights later and only about 5 or 6 more to go. Until it turned the corner. I wondered if I should turn around and retrace my steps downwards; after all it looked a darn site easier to do that than continue. How many corners I mused are there left. So I pressed on. Sir Edmund Hilary the intrepid explorer once said “It is not the mountain that we conquer, but ourselves.” I only just remembered that today, certainly not on Sunday p.m. halfway towards the summit. I carried on and when I turned the corner I found that there were no too many more corners left to face, but still a few more flights of steps. The crowd at the top broke into thunderous applause as I breached like Moby Dick being chased by Captain Ahab. Well they actually didn’t. I think they quizzically looked at one another and thought, “Doesn’t this clown know it’s only 3 dollars by cab ?”
I sat and recovered, listening to the I-pod for another 25-30 minutes during which time no sign of a city bus. There is also yet another set of steps to be conquered, but not today. So now to give in and take a cab DOWN !! No, of course not, the smartest thing was to take the cab UP, not DOWN. So I rolled up my sleeves, took the bull by the horns (a euphemism, there are not bulls up there to take, and if there were one would not take them by the horns. That would be plain daft). Off I went, managed it in one go, back to the Mall, onto the bus and homeward bound (to quote Simon and Garfunkel).
I must admit though, half way up those steep stairs and they are pretty steep, I thought of Jimmy Stewart.
San Francisco detective John “Scottie” Ferguson (James Stewart) develops acrophobia, the fear of heights, after he witnesses a police officer (Fred Graham) fall to his death during a rooftop chase. Because of his acrophobia, he experiences vertigo when looking down from heights and he explains to his friend Marjorie “Midge” Wood (Barbara Bel Geddes) that he feels compelled to retire from police work.

No more Police work for me then. No bus it seems makes it to the top of Mirador de Turi, cab next time. And then I can take the camera and tripod with impunity. Sherlock Holmes can sleep safely knowing that story of the Speckled Band would forever remain in his domain forever.