IN ACTUALITY, A DEMI-TRAGIC BOOM

Again, this is the both of us writing. Because that`s the way it should be.

Esmeraldas begat Quito. Quito begat the Jungle. And the Jungle begat Baños. Which is Spanish for "Awesome**"

Baños is a somewhat touristy small town set in a valley, surrounded by a ring of mountains and one active volcano. At night, this volcano throws lava into the misty air, unless of course you have paid a cab driver twenty bucks to get a good view of the volcano, in which case it takes about an hour-long break. Baños is a hub for outdoor activities--we`ve hiked, biked and will soon ATV--but also has cheap massages, facials, and all the other feminine stuff we wouldn`t do in the US.

Yesterday, after a 10-mile bike ride down La Avenida de las Cascadas ("The Avenue of Waterfalls--but also deadly tunnels with limited lighting and potentially lethal potholes") we returned in the back of a man`s truck. With us were our two American friends who we had been travelling with since the jungle (Aaron & Holly: Charming. Mid-western. Engineers.), seven other people, two children, one baby, six bikes and one guy hanging off the back. Upon arrival in Baños, CC asked--quite politely--if we would take his bike back for him, as he was feeling a bit under the weather. We thought he was being lazy, but when we returned to our accomodations, it turned out he was lazy. LAZY WITH DEATH.

DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING 8 PARAGRAPHS MENTION VOMIT TWELVE TIMES

CC had food poisoning. His eruptions were more active than the near-by volcano, causing much of the city to evacuate pre-maturely. At least we`re sure they did, because CC was really going at it. CC had the same thing for lunch and breakfast as other people--so it is unclear where this food poisoning came from--but his body was firm in its decision that, much like the loading zone at an aiport, food could stay for a few minutes but then it just had to go.

CUT TO NINE O`CLOCK. THIRD-WORLD HOSPITAL.

One of the first things we learned about hospitals here is that you get the medicine yourself. After CC brushed away the debris that lined one of the three hospital beds and took his position, one of the doctors sent Josh and Aaron--the most handsomely fluent of the three and perhaps the most passionately caring individual of the greater Detroit area--to a pharmacy to buy injections for CC. This would be one of many trips, as each time we returned to the hospital, the doctors would have scribbled out more perscriptions for us to purchase. Total cost of CC`s life saving drugs: FOURTEEN DOLLARS. But you don`t think about money in times like these...not when someone`s life is on the line.

From the moment the needle was visible--a large needle, like one used on a horse or or Heinwich--a shadow fell upon the room. CC sat with head in hands. Josh offered whatever words of encouragement he could offer. Aaron snapped a few photos. At about minute 11 of the first injection--an injection that probed deep within the vein to deliver, with maybe a bit too much patience, every last drop of sustinence to CC`s marrow--CC made a declaration. The following dialogue actually occured in Spanish, but has been translated for the reader´s benefit.

CC: I`m going to vomit.
DOCTOR: Breathe.
AARON: They say breathe.
CC: I`m going to vomit.
DOCTOR: Breathe strong and hard.
AARON: They say strong and hard, CC.
CC: That`s what she said. I have to vomit.
VOMIT: BLLLLUUURRRRRRR
DOCTOR: Breathe.

CC vomitted all over their floor. Over their bathroom too, actually, but the vomits from the bed were a lot more dramatic. After the first vomit, a doctor moved a trash can beside the bed. CC vomited again and came short of the trash can, so the doctor moved it closer. Then CC vomited a third time, this time well over the trash can. But at least he was growing stronger.

After these shots, CC was given a strict regiment of pills and a diet the prohibits so many foods that we haven`t yet discovered the ones he can eat. And Pedialyte. Today he`s feeling better. And his dad is feeling better because we didn`t have to pay the 1000 dollar insurance deductible. In fact, there may be no record of CC in the hospital, and if there is it is under the name of "Chris Pears," as no one in Ecuador seems to understand Josh when he spells names in Spanish. Which has led to him being registered as "Jofh Shirp" during the jungle trip and now to CC as "Chris Pears" at the hospital.

But man, if Jofh Shirp and Chris Pears find out the way we`ve sullied their good names, they are going to be pretty peeved.






**-Unless all the stuff that happened to CC happens to you.

A LA JUNGLA

Again, this is both of us writing. This and the following posts will be re-capping the events of the last week. Because we`ve just been SOOO BUSY!

The overnight bus from Quito to Lago Agrio (our second overnight bus in a row) was, undoubtedly, a mistake. Here are some hightlights:
*Permanently ear-destroying music
*A constantly playing kung-fu movie starring Jet Li and that tool from The Transporter
*A more-nauseating ride than The Teacups
*A locked bathroom with no key
*A fuzzy penis doll hanging from the rear view mirror
*CC (Josh editorial: at the angriest I have seen him this entire trip) trying to pee into a bottle but finding the road too bumpy for even that simple provision

Once in Lago Agrio (Spanish for ¨No Lake, Just Sketch¨), we walked the three blocks to the hotel (missing it three times coming from two directions) that we were getting a ride from at 9 am. WHICH WAS IN 4 AND A HALF HOURS. Because it was 4:30 in the morning. So we were tired and we took a nap in the most expensive room we`ve had yet.

Shortly after, our bitterness, our anger, and our sense of defeat melted away at the sight of our favorite couple who can`t speak American. It was those potty-mouthed, flat-living, tube-riding lymies James & Hannah. To picture Hannah, picture Mary Poppins without the bag. To picture James, picture Mary Poppins with Prince William´s haircut and a bigger bag. They are our friends. Even if they are MEGA-OLD.

The jungle accomodations were nice, though an unexpected treat was our third roomate, Heinwich, a portly Belgian with a keen sense of judgement and a stagnant sense of style (read: he never changed clothes). Our days were filled with Nam-like motor-canoe rides down a winding river, muddy tramps through the dense jungle foilage and late-night swims with pirhanas and the microscopic worms that can swim up your weiner. Also, very un-Nam-like three course lunches. The cutest aspect of this trip, though--cuter than toucans, cuter than Shirley Temple, cuter even than Heinwich--was a wooly monkey that CC named "Mono" and Josh named "William S. Burroughs." As aforementioned, CC slept with this monkey in the kind of human/animal embrace that Disney movies and widespread third world epidemics are born out of.

Also, CC lost his camera in the jungle. We are told that he will get it back in a week, but we are figuring that there is now a young puma building up a portfolio to one day become a respected photo-journalist.

A TRAGIC BOOM

This is Josh. I´m writing from a jail cell. YES A THIRD-WORLD JAIL CELL WITH INTERNET. It´s dial-up, though. CC is dead. Let me say it again in all caps. CC IS DEAD. I´m sorry to inform you, the collective anonymous internet user, surfing your message boards and typing things you´d never say in real life thanks to the veil the web of deceits provides, it is you that I am sorry to inform of CC´s death but I had to do it quickly and calling the states costs 24 cents a minute. IKNOWRIGHT!?!?!?!?

CC was trying to be polite at a restaurant, eating something that he didn´t think could possibly be food. Turns out, it wasn´t. He had eaten their mohogany flatware, mahoganyware if you will, and they were relics from an older time. So the family, in the fashion of that time, killed him and jailed me.

Someone needs to wire me thirty thousand dollars so I can make bail, though also in the fashion of that time, as I will have to hide it inside the carcass of a pig.

But yeah, we are having a GREAT TIME! Well, at least I am. CC wrote that last part. WHAT?¿

Quick Update

We´re still alive, barely. Josh and I will give a full update soon, but we´ve spent the last few days in the jungle with no electricity. So we obviously couldn´t post, though we thought about you all lots and lots. That is, when we weren´t worried for our lives while swimming in a pirahna-filled river, avoiding tarantulas that were actually all around the place we stayed, and trying to stay clean and comfortable in the chronic and oppressive heat and humidity that exists nowhere else in the world but the Ecuadorian rain forest.

Worst part for me - spending nearly an entire two days stuck in a bathroom.

Best part for me - sleeping with a monkey (seriously, on my shoulder the entire night and even peed on me in the morning)


Ooooh, I bet now you´re eager for details!

A Sentimental Note

We were wrong.

Anita is not a lady of the night. Luis was not crazy. I have to say that when we put them together it was much like putting the north side of a magnet right beside the south side of a piece of dynamite that is already lit, and MacGyver is nowhere to be found.

Luis ended up helping us relentlessly and is one of the kindest people I have ever met. On our last day in Esmeraldas he brought us a few original statuettes that were made by early Ecuadorians as a farewell gift. I will say without qualifiers that I love Luis.

Anita turned out to be capricious rather than insane. She is so kind that she appeared to be trying to follow us to Quito when all she wanted to do was a leave a few days early to see her daughter and thought it would be fun to ride the overnight bus with us. I additionally love - without holding any bars (that´s the expression right?) - Anita very much.

There other fun stories today since we haggled in a market in Otavalo and applied deodorant to our seats on our bus that smelled like it was owned by Beetlejuice, but I just wanted to update how wonderful Luis and Anita are. And also Rocio. And Rachel. And Rachel´s friend.

People rock.

Regresamos a Quito

In lieu of sleeping, lately we´ve been riding buses. We are currently between bus rides, though about to take our second over-night bus trip, and if my math is right, then by noon tomorrow we will have spent 24 of the preceeding 36 hours on a bus. Too many. I need jungle. I need primitive canoe rides. I NEED PACKS OF PIRHANA.

I only want to briefly mention that last night was almost too much for me to handle. After we thought our night had ended, we met 4 Ecuadorians--real blue-collar, working-class, John Mellencamp types, if there is an Ecuadorian John Mellencamp equivalent--and spent much of the night laughing. Just laughing. Thus far, it has surprised me just how much I´m understanding Spanish and has surprised me even more that people understand me and last night was a fantastic example. Again, CC took the charge and introduced us--he, thankfully, will much more readily cross the Spanish-English threshold than I will--and these four amiable gentlemen were more than pleased to have us join them. I even told my first Ecuadorian joke. Which they loved.

The night got strange with the addition of two things: motocycle rides and karaoke. Firstly, motorcycle is an over-statement, as moto-scooter would be a better term. Maybe even Mini-Moto-Scooter. Maybe even Mini-Moto-Scooter, Junior (AGES 4 AND UP). But it was a blast to go on a quick ride around the city with a jovial Ecuadorian as proud of his (sweeeeet) ride as this one was and was a moment that left me with one thought, primarilly. Mom, stop reading. That thought was that my mom would flip if she knew what I was doing. Riding with a random Ecuadorian on his moto-scooter at 10 pm? Without a helmet? Oh, to be young is to be wild is to be in a third world country. Mom, come back. I love you. I bought you a blanket today.

As for karaoke, I would say that based on the sheer number of karaoke joints present, the enthusiasm in Ecuador for singing over recorded music while watching projections of landscapes and rhythmically highlighted words rivals that of Asia. But I´m guessing it´s creepier here, as there is very little to indicate that anyone is performing. In fact, this karaoke bar was maybe 10 by 8 feet, with four tables and a microphone passed from party to party. No stage. No lights. Just 8 people in a closet with a mic and a lot of "Hotel California."

Needless to say, CC & I were a big hit.

O...M...G...

So we met up with our Spanish girlfriend (one had too much work) at the bar and hung out for a little while stumbling as gracefully as possible through our conversation. I´m not exactly sure what "overtime" entails here, but apparently Rocio had to go have some drinks with her boss on the beach and couldn´t meet up with us. I think there was a euphemism somewhere.

We called Luis to meet up with Ana, Josh, and me for dinner. Josh described it best when he said, "It was like eating dinner with my racist grandmother and my black girlfriend." Luis, as it turns out, is not gay but a very friendly Christian man with a "Jesus" keychain. Anita, as it turns out, may have been a prostitute. Luis seemed to think this about Anita because she was already drunk and he talked about her in English because she didn´t understand it.

Meanwhile, every time anyone paused to inhale, Anita leapt at the opportunity to fill the free seconds with words that were spoken so quickly, it sounds like one fifty syllable word every time she spoke (yotravezalaplayayonecesitabaunacosaparabeberyentonceencontreunabotelladeaguadiosmio!).

We took a cab back to the area of town where we were staying, which I´m pretty sure is the "barber shop" district. Anita was dropped off first, under the austere suggestion/demand of Luis, but before she got out of the car Anita did something that made no sense at all. She took off her wedding ring (HER WEDDING RING!) that had seven tiny diamonds on it (SEVEN DIAMONDS!) and then placed it on me finger (SHE GAVE IT TO ME!!!!). She told me to bring it to her tomorrow when we have drinks, and then she left.

That was when we realized that everyone we had met in Ecuador was absolutely crazy. CRAZY!!

Since this post is fairly long as is, I will make another about the events that occurred later in the night, but they include the following:
4 middle-aged men
a motorcycle
Josh and I being separated twice
karaoke
the middle of the night