There are dangerous hot lava flows downs Tungurahua's sides, and the smoke and ash plume is 2 to 3 kms high. The Canadian Consulate calls it an "Orange Alert" - the lava is certainly orange - and we are closely watching the situation to see whether we can still go to Malingua Pamba on January 6th - there has been ash falling in some nearby towns.
Our photos today are of the city of Quito - its architecture, mostly. Quito is a UNESCO Heritage City. On Tuesday we took the big red open-topped double decker tourist bus through the city. We stopped at the artisan's market, which is not too huge but the merchandise is interesting. The section of the tour bus route that goes through the old town and up to El Panecillo is worth the experience. The more modern part of town is a mixed bag: a lot of the buildings and infrastructure are "second world" rather than first or third world, and I was surprised at the poor quality of the brick in some areas. Street level electrical wiring is like spaghetti. Much of the city, however, including the neighbourhood we are in, is quite modern and well-built.
"Weather clear but with a chance of sudden showers:" On the way back to stop #1, the bus was on a small ring road through a more modern section of town. Suddenly I noticed that a frame was lifting on the upper deck and a black vinyl cover was being brought forward, motorized, like putting up the top on a convertible. It was a little cool, but not raining, so I wondered why they were covering us. Once it was done, I suddenly noticed that there was a young man on a pedestrian overpass ahead of us on the highway. As we passed underneath, he whipped out his hose and peed a fairly copious amount of urine down onto the bus. He managed to splash the upper windscreen, and if the top had been retracted, Deb would have worn some. A little later, the ticket-taker calmly retracted the top again. It must be a hilarious and common joke amongst some of the young people here - "Piss on the tourists!" - because later I saw a young man in a car coming from the other direction looking up at the front of the bus, and he pointed and laughed.
This morning we dragged ourselves out of bed at 6 a.m. and took Maggie to the fresh food market, where we bought fish, meat, fruit, etc and came home $60 lighter but with about six bags full of edibles. Since her Spanish (and maybe her confidence) is limited, she doesn't get out to a place like that very often - this was only her second visit. She did recognise several things that she knew from her home in Ghana, including the Jamaica tea, which she says is ubiqitous and inexpensive there. Here they bring it in from Mexico and charge about $20/lb for it, or $3 for quite a small bag.
I'm convinced that we paid a "gringo price" for some of our items, especially in the smaller quantities; they weren't that keen to actually weigh fruits for us, so everything was "one dollar"; but it wasn't extreme gouging, and we came home pleased with our loot. Maggie, used to shopping in a Ghanaian market, was much quicker than we are to offer a buck when two bucks was asked, and several times got her price. We've noticed that taxi drivers, even the special city licenced ones for whom this is supposed to be illegal, will always quote us an "off the meter" price which is anywhere from 50% to 150% higher than we know that the same trip will cost on the meter - and that's even with Deb speaking clear Spanish to them. They usually claim it's because the traffic is hell...but it's never not hell. We've learned that if we demand the meter or offer the rounded cash amount that we know it is going to come to, they'll usually acquiesce, a little grudgingly but cheerfully.
Except for a second trip to the regular supermarket today, we intend to stay put for the rest of the day, eating, napping and reading, studying Spanish, taking Zoey out for walks, etc.
We were winning the battle with Zoey - she hadn't pooped inside the house for two days now, except for overnight in her own little room, which she normally never does. I've recalculated based on the size of our little retirement bungalow at home that this apartment is closer to 6000 square feet, which is a pretty big neighbourhood in itself for a very small dog; we don't allow her access to regions where she'd developed the habit of sneaking off to have a poop, and we keep her tethered near us so she feels happy in our company and if she has to go she can give us fair warning. We broke our winning streak, however, by taking her upstairs - on a lead - while giving Mom a Skype tour of the apartment. As soon as she hit the upstairs landing that she used to use for a poop station, it triggered her bowel immediately, possibly from the residual odour, or maybe just residual habituation. We'll keep her completely away from the second floor, I guess.
Reducing her food intake to the recommended amount for her size, and splitting that between two strict mealtimes (taking up what she doesn't eat in a half-hour or so), creates a routine for her body and less urgent and constant flow of food through it. We realized that she mostly pees in the house only out of nervousness, especially when we bend down to pick her up or attach the leash, when she cowers and cringes momentarily. She responds well to the opportunity to poop outside, and we've only scolded her once for pooping inside the house a few days ago, just to express our disapproval of that act. She's a very bright little dog when walking on the leash, being very aware of the leash, never pulling, and she is very attentive to us and any change in direction we decide on. Not bad for a nine month old puppy.
Next: Women of Otavalo
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