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.