I landed in Quito around 8:30 and finished getting through customs around 9. Quito´s airport is nice on the inside but when you step outside there is just a row of billboards and a parking lot for not more than 200 cars. On the roads some lanes are really skinny and the traffic rules don´t seem to be followed very often. The weather is pleasant in Quito, it´s comfortably cool and it rained in the morning. The hostel I´m staying at is nice, very colorful with some unique touches like huge hanging plants in the patio area and a really confusing layout. They say its nearly full with about 30 people. My room filled up this morning with some backpackers round 8am. It´s weird having to brush my teeth from a bottle of water but Im getting the hang of it. For breakfast I had toast and juice. It wasn´t orange juice but it was delicious. Afraid of getting sick from the food, I ate nothing but granola bars until I arrived at the reserve the next evening.
Quito is chilly. It rained on and off today and the temperature was in the 60s but it´s still pleasant. I sat outside for a little bit today; the outdoor patios at my hostel are adorable. They’re filled with plants and some are protected from the rain. One has two spiral staircases to take you up to more balconies with a view of the surrounding buildings. Everything in the hostel is colorful and there are so many different textures; the ceiling is decorated in every room. I wish I had paid more for one of the more interesting rooms higher up, one has a hammock on a balcony overlooking the patio.
I arrived Tuesday night. It was dark by the time we flew over Panama, which was disappointing, but I did get to see Cuba from 39000 ft. After going through customs I met my shuttle driver who took me to the hostel, where almost everyone was still awake at around 10pm. On the plane we were required to wear face masks and at the airport we were scanned with a heat-sensing camera to prevent the spread of H1N1. Both the drivers I have met are extremely nice. They ask you how you are doing about 5 times and are willing to speak slowly so that I can understand. A guy staying in my room just came back from the Congal station, where I´ll head tomorrow at 6:45am. I met another volunteer at my orientation, he´s from Connecticut but isn´t going to my station so I won´t see him again. There´s no internet at my station and I´m not looking forward to the weather but I can´t wait to fully unpack.
Quito International Airport is nice on the inside but once you step outside it is definitely small. It´s definitely in the city, not one of those airports that is 30 minutes outside a city. At the entrance there is a row of billboards and a small parking lot, maybe 200 cars maximum. My shuttle was parked only a few spaces from the entrance, and after we drove out we were right on normal city roads. Every shop here is small, with the exception of some huge and really interesting buildings. They all have bars over the windows and rather obscure signs. I passed about 10 car dealerships on the way to the hostel. A lot of cars here look new or are at least as nice as my car. Driving is exciting and a little frightening, some lanes are really small and most drivers do what they want to get where they´re going. I can´t spot stoplights and there aren´t too many informative signs to direct you to places. There are buses and taxis everywhere.
I don´t have any altitude sickness although I think some other people in my room might have it because they haven´t gotten out of bed all day. On one side of Quito there are mountains or I suppose it is a volcano. It´s all green though, not snow capped from what I can see. Tomorrow I descend to the coast. I wish I could stay long enough to have breakfast here, now that I´ve gotten the hang of it. We had toast, eggs, fruit, and juice. I only had toast and juice because I was scared to get sick but my hungry belly regrets that now. I don´t know what the juice was but it was very delicious, not guava or orange but something I’ve tasted before, and fresh squeezed.
Although Gracie died earlier in the week, it isn’t affecting me as much as I thought it would. Being away from her was always hard because I didn’t think that she and Bear understood why I always had to be gone for months at a time. Gracie and I were so much alike. She was the one member of my family that I could stand to be around during those weird teenage years when you’re mad at the world. We were both mellow and energetic at specific moments. We both had issues with being in control. We both only got along with a few people and didn’t quite know how to show affection to the people in our family. The Gracie that was a part of our family while we lived on the mountain was very different from the one that lived in town. I don’t know if she missed the days when she could run into the neighbor’s field and roll in cow poop every day and sleep outside until we gave her a shower, but I think we’ve both changed a lot since then.
It will probably be harder once I’m home and she isn’t sitting in her usual places, or when I see Bear and he doesn’t have anyone to provoke or guard the downstairs while he snuggles with Andy. Bear is still so lively and animated and he has the most adorable personality. Sometimes he’ll be completely sweet or lazy and other times he will start rolling around on the couch and look at you just to see if it made you smile. And when he creeps down the stairs, my favorite look of his is when he pauses at the top to see what is going on down below and then happily proceeds once he sees me. He’s always been Andy’s dog, and Gracie’s always been mine, but Bear is such a darling that I know it’s going to hurt to see him lonely.
The lake was partially frozen a few days ago and the ducks were slipping and sliding as they scrambled for pieces of bread from little kids. Some had the “swim around and catch stuff from the water” approach and others had the “walk one webbed foot at a time” approach. One duck was particularly badass and would fly over the other ducks to the distant pieces of bread, using the ice as a landing strip.
Last night I saw Garrison Keillor at the Landmark Theater [in Richmond]. It always gives me shivers when the the lights go down and the magnificent theater shrinks into my own little cocoon of darkness. It’s just me, with a few shadowy heads in front, and the quiet and noise and eyesight of others surround me. When I’m supposed to be focusing on the small man lit up on the stage I tend to do the most thinking. It’s easy to shut everything else out and long to lay my head on a warm shoulder like the couple next to me. I remember memories that are insignificant and let the music give them the feeling they used to have. Words and funny stories fade in and out and at times I don’t know if I’m listening to Garrison or making up my own words. And I make “wouldn’t that be nice” wishes and plans that seem so achievable in the darkness while laughter erupts from the crowd around me.
An imaginary life might be nice but you have to have the real thing to help your imagination run wild.
Although I have been updaing my blog since high school, I always keep my oldest and more personal entries private.
