We woke up Monday to astonishing rain. The sky is gray, and we are socked in. Sometimes the rain is really heavy, and it continued through the following night and into Tuesday. We tried to go next door to the San Blas church which the guide book says is open until noon and has significant tapestries as well as history, but they politely told us they don't do tourists - come back Tuesday for mass, if we want.
We walked a block up the hill instead, to the Basilica, an impressive building that legend says will never be completed. Sure enough, some sort of maintenance issue which we never saw evidence of had the entry price slashed in half. There were about a hundred stained glass windows, about half of them illustrating scenes from the life of Christ. There were uniquely Ecuadorian gargoyles around the outside - crocodiles, snakes, pangolins, monkeys, panthers, anteaters and many more indigenous animals - and alcoves for remains of some saints and doll-like effigies of others, with tables for devotional candles so that people can pray to their favourites, including the Virgin of Guadelajara, who is here on a visit, apparently. The Basilica deserves its own photo album.
When we got back to the hostel we were about to watch Cat in the Hat in Spanish. We haven't seen the English version, but since Roberto studied the bilingual book with me a couple of weeks ago, it seemed appropriate. Suddenly the hostel door bell rang, just as I was composing a reply email to Jean Brown, and there she was at the door. She lives only two short blocks above the basilica we'd walked to earlier. We had a chat in the common room and were able to introduce her to Dustin, who is staying at the Belmont as well for a few days before heading to Cuenca. She ended up inviting us to her condo so that Dustin could indulge his love of cooking and we could meet her friend Olivia.
At 5 p.m. Deb and Dustin and I stepped out into the rain to go to the local market for ingredients. Our first challenge was fencing with the taxi drivers, who appear to consider the combination of rain and gringos a godsend. For a ride that would ring up 60 cents on the meter, we expected to pay the minimum $1 charge, but the first guy, outrageously, asked for $5! The next three demanded $3, and we finally settled on one driver who was willing to take us there for $2. These are all metered, placarded, officially licenced city taxis, mind you, for whom this is supposed to be illegal, and most connected by radio to their dispatch offices - apparently there's no enforcement, no sting officers or any other way to discourage the practice. You gouge for whatever you can get, with the blessing of your dispatcher. Going an even shorter distance from the market to Jean's was just as bad, until a private car honked and pulled over for us, and volunteered to take us there for a $1.50. Dustin tells us that he found that Colombian taxis were all strictly by the meter and all their goods and services prices are firm for everyone, local and tourist alike; they have been trying hard to correct a very bad image with tourists that built up over the past few decades. Ecuador seems to be happy to let their image as a tourist destination slide.
At the market, we immediately found some incredible pork chops (much less risky than beef, which is typically very tough in S. America), and we also bought cauliflower and sweet red peppers for roasting, tomato, cucumber, avocado and red onion for a salad treat, and a pineapple. Jean made a rice dish with turmeric and other spices, and put wine and beer on the table. It was a delicious meal that we all prepared together under Chef Dustin's command, and afterward we sat in Jean's sitting room and talked about books, their families, and aspects of life in Ecuador over a little rum and coffee.
We walked home around ten through clear night air cleaned by the rain, downhill all the way along steep cobble streets and staircases built before there were cars in the city, through a neighbourhood gateway with the date 1929 on it, and out onto Calle Guayaquil, right across the Hermano Miguel Plaza from the Belmont.
I got up shortly after seven this morning and went up to the rooftop kitchen to make a coffee. Elena hadn't been up to unlock doors yet, but the door to the terrace had a padlock that wasn't open so I just slid back the bolt and stepped out onto the roof. A terribly loud car alarm went off beside my ear and continued for about sixty seconds. It was on a motion detector. I ignored it, went to the kitchen and pulled loose the little piece of string that was tying that door shut, and made my coffee. Nobody scolded me, so all is good. It is a quiet, very secure hostal, not a party place at all, which is one of the reasons it is so cheap - perfect for us.
The friends we were going to stay with again today had to bail on us. Any had said she wanted to explore the idea of sending Ecuadorian crafts and garments to Canada, and I wanted Edwin to consider making regalia clothing for the yacht clubs in Toronto, of which there are dozens, as well as tennis clubs and schools - team sports clothing, etc. He was messing around with the idea of making Univ. of Toronto shirts, but that's small potatoes compared to the market that really exists. However, Any says her mother is ill in Ibarra (her mother has Alzheimer's) and they're having another water issue in their house, this time from a broken pipe, perhaps caused by the pressure cooker that exploded in Edwin's parents' apartment.
When we were there the previous time they'd had a flood when the water line to Edwin's mother's frig (for the icemaker) had broken, and nobody caught the problem it until ran down to Edwin's floor. Edwin's mother's eyesight is almost gone.
We'll be here until Saturday, which makes me happy - staying in the Mall Jardin area seemed like a boring location to spend our last four days in Quito. Deb became very fond of Any, they got along well, and I think that's why she was really hoping we could stay with them again, but we feel quite relaxed and autonomous here at the Belmont, so for me it's not such a disappointment - except for the fact that I wanted to show Any how much Spanish I can speak now. I wasn't sure they'd be that keen to host us again - they'd already extended our first stay when our second host fell through two months ago. But no matter - we remain grateful for their hospitality and their welcome to Quito when we first arrived, and we hope we'll be able to reciprocate when they visit their son in Toronto, and help Aaron to feel at home there.
We attended a dance performance of Tatuaje by the Ballet Nacional de Ecuador at the cultural centre. Not a great conception or choreography, but it was mercifully short, and in a very modern theatre. I was interested to notice how many young people came out to watch modern jazz ballet. We went with Jean Brown and her friend Richard. The vice-president was in attendance, a very big deal for most of the audience; and I was reminded that we have a contact in his office, a women we were supposed to stay with who works directly with him running a wheelchair distribution program - a bit odd to run such a program directly out of the VP's office, but I guess it must be very good VP PR.
Tomorrow we'll start the day with a great coffee - found a place nearby that knows how to make a really good cup. Then we'll attend a botanical water colour exhibit nearby with Jean, and then search out a new diversion for the evening.
Thursday: finally a sunny morning, so we climbed to the top of the hill above Los Rios to get a decent photographic view of the city. There are a few photos here. In the evening we headed to the famous church with all the gold leaf that usually costs about $7 to go inside, but they'd scheduled a free concert by the Ecuador Symphony, so entry was free to the church as well. With all the lights it was quite stunning. More about that in the next blog.
On Friday had a farewell dinner with Jeannie, Maggie and Zoey. On Saturday we left for Lima and Cusco.
I did put out feelers to try and meet Quitenos on Couchsurfing - you'd think that would be the most logical place to find people who want to meet visitors from other countries. But Couchsurfing seems to be largely a bust here. People seem generally nervous of strangers, and don't really understand or buy the concept, although there are many members listed in the city. My impression from my initial inquiries two months ago is that most hope it'll be useful to them if they travel themselves, but aren't that keen to host. Maybe most believe that they have little chance to travel anyway, and so the reciprocity concept doesn't quite gel for them, and they don't really want to open their home to strangers. We've had hosts who said "maybe" and then backed out.
In Cusco there are several who are simply blatantly advertising their hostels on the couchsurfing site. We can't even find people in Quito willing to meet for coffee and chat, as ambassadors of their city - they seem remarkably xenophobic, actually - as if the design of their houses, bulwarked and locked to the street with the courtyards as private as possible in the interior, are a mirror of their souls. The experience is very interesting, and has helped to reframe my generalized perceptions of S. American people and their values. Mind you, in the course of doing business with them, you meet many very gracious people, and Ecuadorians pride themselves on conservative dress and values; but for a rather socialist country, they appear to be actually more capitalist in personal values than Canada or other countries we've visited. Maybe they are socialist politically, hoping that it'll increase the amount of chicken in every pot, but not personally.
Next: El Dorado in Quito
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