I'm Lovin' It!

I never eat McDonald's in the states (except that one time on the Reservation...).... but when I travel... And I get lonely...I have been known to cave in to the familiar french fried wicked deliciousness that is McDonald's (emphasis on wicked). Three examples.

• China, 2004...I was teaching English in China. We had free access to Chinese food in the school cafeteria. It was disgusting, the golden arches called, and often we answered. 
• India, 2007...I got sick visiting my buddy Lon. My first post Dehli belly meal? A "chicken burger" (they do not serve hamburger in India due to obvious cattle restrictions) from McDonald's. 
• Mexico, 2010...I was studying Spanish for a month in San Cristobal De Las Casas...when loneliness struck. What makes people feel happy when they are lonely in another country? Big mac mblt a quater pounder with some cheese...

For those keeping track at home, that is McDonald's 3 Bucher 0.

Thankfully thus far I have had the self-control to "say no".

But I still want to eat things that I know, especially after a month and a half of eating different food. Thankfully I married Brigitte. She pushes me from the tacos and sandwiches that I tend toward.

This week we prepared Seco de Pollo. Literally, it sure seams to mean dry chicken. I like my chicken a bit on the moist side. But in reality, it is more of a sauce or stew of chicken. We procured the recipe from here. We enjoyed the chicken quite a bit. It is one of the more popular dishes here. There are a variety of "Seco de..." dishes, "Seco de Chivo", "Seco de Res", etc... Here is Brigitte enjoying her "dry" chicken.

Brigitte really is the machine that makes this Bucher Anderson cooking thing work. She is always ready to push us to infinity and beyond while I want to stay in the finite and remain.

We enjoyed another Ecuadorian food this week, they are called salchipapas. Salchipapas are literally a mix of two great things...salchichas (hot dogs) and papas (french fries)...Salchipapas. Increible!

Usually they are served in a bowl, slathered in ketchup and mayo. Then, they are eaten with a toothpick. Salchipapas literally fuel Ecuador. President Correa is probably slumped over his desk planning the exploitation of the Yasuni as I write this, with a bowl of salchipapas keeping him going...dripping ketchup and mayo all over important documents.

One of our teachers (Brigitte's specifically) was kind enough to invite us to his hometown for Sunday. Sundays here in Cuenca are really...really...quiet. Nothing happens. At the beginning of our time here we thought that the rapture had come, and there had been some sort of miscommunication. But no, the people just leave. So Gabriel was kind to invite us to his hometown about an hour away. There, we were able to have a good time doing the things you do on a Sunday in Ecuador, like wearing small hats...

And jump on suspension bridges...

And even open up the doors of our perception...

We are excited this week as we are going to probably begin volunteering at an after school program! We also hope to NOT eat McDonald's!

Español v. English

Have you ever thought about how fighting the good fight is...a fight? Fights in and of themselves are not easy. I know. Ben is my younger brother and for the first few years of life I could take him. But then, sadly, the younger brother that is Ben (though he would wish to be known as the older brother) could take me. I imagine this is still the case, which is why I am rather inclined to pacifism these days. Thanks to Ben...Thoreau...and Jesus.

That being said, our fight here is a battle against English. I apologize for the violent verbiage but for me it is very hard. I just want to swim in a sea of English. I want to approach random white people for conversations...sometimes this results in conflict between Brigitte and I. Here is a photo of Brigitte and I after we began fighting because she wanted to speak English and I wanted to speak Spanish...

Brigitte has been doing an incredible job of speaking Spanish, and I am jealous of how quickly she is learning Spanish. Her determination, energy...and creative use of hand motions get her far. When others learn that she has only been studying Spanish since the end of July, they are always impressed. But we still have a long way to go.

Oftentimes Brigitte struggles with the difference between "buenos dias", which is good morning, and "buenas tardes", which is good afternoon. My approach to this is to simply utter, "buenos..." or even the more brief, "bueno...". This has resulted in many instances where we walk into a store in the afternoon, and Brigitte boldly begins, "BUENOS DIAS!" to which I quietly add, "tardes", we laugh...the clerk laughs...and then we move on with the conversation. Today we went through these motions. She declared BUENOS DIAS, I corrected her, but then she pointed out that the man at the store had initiated with a "buenos dias". I was appropriately chastened, because it was 11: 45. Still buenos dias.

We like the bread here a lot. While my brother is learning how to slang bread, I am continuing to hone my ability to consume it. Last Friday our teachers took us to a panaderia (bakery) where they use a wood stove to cook their bread. I know man "cannot live by bread alone"...but this bread does make it tempting...

It was warm and it was good. So good. Brigitte has had to physically restrain me because I want to quit school...quit everything in fact, and just eat bread at this panaderia.

This bakery was found in the old school bakery sector. That is how it is here, things are divided into sectors. The furniture sector. The car repair sector. The school supply sector. If you walk a few blocks and only see hats in every shop, then you guessed it, you are in the sombrero sector! During our Friday field trip, guess which sector we went to?

No, it is not the crazy monument sector. Instead it is the blacksmith/ironworking sector. And in it, they have the coolest monument that we have ever seen. This is a monument of a blacksmith exploding out of a volcano, anvil in hand, ready to pound some iron. You can see the mosaic "lava" flowing from the "ironman". Don't worry, neither myself nor Brigitte were injured while shooting this picture.

On Saturday we went to a national park that is an hour from our house. Sometimes...well actually a lot of times...our lack of fluency makes things take longer. We left that house at 8:30. We walked to the main bus terminal. We asked the a women working at a ticket office how to get a ticket to the national park. She said we had to leave the bus terminal and get on the local bus number 11, and then take it to the "Occidental" bus station where we could find a bus to Cajas national park. We ran out of the main bus terminal. We jumped on the first number 11 bus. After two or three stops we decided that we never got a second opinion. So we got off the bus. Walked back to the bus terminal. We asked another ticket agent for which bus we needed to go to Cajas National Park. She pointed outside to a bus and said, "That one!". We ran out to get on the bus. The man said something in Spanish that seemed to mean there was no space. We went outside and waited. We walked by each bus and said, "Does this bus go to Cajas?" They all pointed to the bus that had no space. We walked back to that bus again. We asked the conductor again if there was space. He said maybe. We waited. Then another conductor came and said, "There is no space." We went back inside the station. We asked another ticket agent where we could get a bus to go to Cajas. She said, and this may sound familiar, take the local number 11 bus to the Occidental bus station. So again, we left the station...took the number 11 bus. But this time we stayed on it. We finally made it to the station. And we finally made it to Cajas!

For those of you who do not "hablo espanol", 4 horas muy dificil is translated as, 4 hours very difficult. And here is why. You spend 1 hour trying to find the trailhead, even after you have a big green sign pointing at it it is that hard to find. Then, once you find the trailhead, you spend 3 climbing straight up, because Cajas does not believe in switchbacks. Finally, you spend 1 more hour being lost again, because suddenly the trail disapparates and you have to bushwack your way to home. But it was incredibly beautiful...and we loved every minute of it!

Oh and I have now texted myself 20 more times.

Who Would've Thought? It Figures...

I do not like plantains. I told Brigitte last week that every time I eat a plantain there is an echo of a banana...I would never take a banana, mash it up, mix it with squash seeds, put cheese in the center, and then fry it. But that is exactly what we did with plantains last Thursday in our cooking class. 

The plantain cheese balls are on the far right. The record should state that Brigitte found them to be delicious. Let the record also state that I know that I should like them...but I guess my grandfathers abhorrence of all vegetables is distilled into my dislike for the plantain. But there is a fruit here that is changing my life. It is called "chiremoya". It is like eating candy. You cut it in half and then eat it with a spoon. It tastes sweet, with a slight tanginess on the back of your tongue. The texture is the best part. It feels almost like custard. It looks like this.

Psyche. That is a pizza. And it was a good one at that. No, actually a chiremoya looks like this...

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. Sometimes when traveling you come across things that surprise you...or remind you of your own culture and how connected the world is. One of the things that surprised us while walking the streets of Cuenca was seeing a nice "Hello Kitty" shop that had childrens' clothes. BUT WAIT. This is no average Hello Kitty shop. Instead, it is...

HELL KITTY. This is the kitty from perdition. Featured in Dante's famous work. Parents must walk in and feel like they are experiencing a traffic jam when they are already late...or even a no smoking sign on their cigarette break. We have our eyes peeled for little kids dressed in cute little HELL KITTY outfits. Stay tuned for photos.

Another example of cultural echoes is in the coffee that I have been drinking. Coffee is grown here in Ecuador. There is even a plant in the garden of the house that we have been staying at. It looks like this.

Seriously, after the first sight of this baby I had visions of our host mom getting up early, harvesting beans, drying them, roasting them in a pan on the stove like you would popcorn, grinding the coffee with a mortar and pestle, and finally pouring hot water over the freshly ground beans. But instead, our host mom has an assist from Canada.

That is right. None other than Casey's, Ginelle's, Simon's, and Esther's favorite cup a joe, Tim Horton's. So, in theory, this coffee could have been grown and harvested in Ecuador, shipped to Canada, roasted and ground in Canada, bought in a supermarket by a future Spanish student, packed in a suitcase, flown back to Ecuador, and finally given as a gift to our host mother where it does indeed supersede the quality of the regularly served instant coffee, Nescafe. But this is the sad truth of nations like Ecuador who profit more from the exportation of products like coffee and are seldom able to enjoy the fruits of their labor because the cost is so high. Isn't ironic? Don't you think?

In other news we have now successfully purchased a cell phone (I have accidentally texted myself 5 times...we also only have one other person's number) and move into our apartment tomorrow! Life sometimes has a funny way of helping you out. 

Clouds and Churches... Markets and Music

Here are some of our first impressions of Cuenca, our new home for the next 3 months. Andy's first thought is pigs die here. 

On our first day in Cuenca, we went to The Muncipo Mercardo. This pig is a delicacy that Cuencans have, we got a taster and it was like pulled pork minus the bbq sauce. We will have to try it for lunch one day. But, of course there were plenty of fruits and veggies at the market...

Andy and I are taking Spanish classes again. We are making progress "poco a poco", but on Friday instead having my head jammed with more spanish grammar ( I am struggling with past tense)... we were able to go on a field trip to Mercado 9 de Octubre. Another side note, Ecuador likes to name things after famous dates. This market is probably named after the date of independence, for Cuenca only, from the Spanish Empire. Other cities have other dates of independence.

Anyways, close to the market Andy and I got a "cleaning". 

The two people waving in Andy’s video are our teachers.

Another highlight of our week was cooking empanadas. If you have never tried an empanada…. stop what you are doing right now, look up the nearest restaurant with empanadas and drive…What are you doing?  Why are you still reading this? You should be leaving to go and try one. 

But really, we have a cooking class with the school and one of the teachers gave the lesson. It took 8 people about two and half hours.  We chopped, we cooked, we made a wheat/corn dough, we put it all together and then fried these amazing empanadas.  It was all worth it. To use Andy’s favorite saying in Spanish los empanadas “cambio mi vida” translated the empanadas changed my life.

Cuenca has an incredible amount of catholic churches, our guide book tells us there are 52 churches.  This means if you came to Cuenca you could visit a catholic church for nearly every weekend of the year. We have only visited one, The Nuevo Catedral. 

The church is beautiful with red brick with two white and blue domes. 

 Clouds... Most days have been cloudy and feel cool. The high is usually 70 and the low is 55 Fahrenheit.  Sometimes I feel pretty cold because its cloudy and there is no heating in any of the buildings. But the clouds can be really beautiful as well. 

I seem to hear music wherever we go... on stairs leading to the river, by a church...but this weekend they even had a free concert that featured folk and other latin american music. After the concert, I have a new image in my mind when you say wind instrument. One of the bands had all kinds of pipes and flutes. I could hear the wind  wooshing through as the instruments were blown into. I thought it was really beautiful.

Andy thinks this group took a page out of Johnnie Cash's wardrobe...and maybe ghosts. Our next few challenges are finding a church and a more permanent residence. 

Here we go again on our own...

We left "La Casa De Luli" on Saturday. We were sad to go. We are by no means home stay experts. But we can say with confidence that in our limited experience Luli's house was by far the best home stay that either of us has ever experienced. Luli is able to cultivate a familial experience in such an abbreviated amount of time due to her cooking and counsel. She preaches a gospel of soup, sunscreen, and safety to her visitors. You know she is delighted to have you in her home. Mothering to her is an art. She is the matron saint of home stays and hospitality. We will indeed miss her...and the cream of tomato soup...and the cream of cauliflower soup...

According to the Instituto Superior de Español, Brigitte and I are both at the "Nivel Intermedio Español" which is a real confidence builder for the both of us. We have been noticing lately that even though I am supposedly "more developed" in my Spanish, Brigitte understands people better. I am hoping that this is just her quick learning nature and not my early onset hearing loss (thanks mom!). More than once I have turned to her and said, "what did that guy say?"

Our last night in Quito we went out for a drink to celebrate our certification and our passports being legit. We took a six dollar taxi. Taxi drivers are a great opportunity to practice Spanish. Oftentimes I have a general idea of what is being said, but as to details...who can know? The following is a transcript of part of our conversation in the taxi cab that night translated to the best of our "Nivel Intermedio" abilities...

Taxi Driver: "I have women for sale."

Andy: "Uhhhhhh. You sale women?"

Taxi Driver: "Of course."

Andy: "I have womens."

Taxi Driver: "I have 5 wives."

Andy: "Problems many have you must."

Taxi Driver: "I do not drink or smoke."

Andy: "You drink smoke?"

Taxi Driver: "There are a variety of different kinds of love."

Brigitte: "Like...like."

Taxi Driver: "Like and love are the same. But love is stronger. There is brotherly love, fatherly love, romantic love..."

Andy: "Love know you much"

We got to our destination. Both inspired to love in ways not yet known and ready to sell women. Just kidding. And hope he was too. Truth be told he probably did not say half of the things we thought he did. But we thought he did. He was just another heart in need of rescue. Like a drifter born to walk alone.

Unlike this gentlemen in the painting above, we made it safely to Cuenca by way of Baños. We have made up our mind and we ain't wasting no more time...Here we go again.

Besitos

We have been staying with a host family. They a very affectionate family. Hugs and kisses flow like the mighty Amazon. Luly is the mother and Gaby is the daughter. Luly prepares breakfast and dinner for us...and we eat it. Her soups are particularly tasty. My favorite was the cauliflower and cream soup that she made that warmed my very soul. Brigitte's favorite soup was one that had a type of potatoes that are from the mountains nearby. Here is a sample of their affection...

This is a photo of us sharing a family dinner. It includes Gaby, Luly's daughter. Gaby is in the red shirt.

We had our first day of language school last Monday. Washington was kind to pick us up and drive us to school. You always have to document the first day of school.

Tuesday found us participating in a great Ecuadorian tradition. Karaoke. I killed it with Yellow Ledbetter (what is great about karaoke is that they show you the lyrics. This was the first time in my life that I actually saw the lyrics to this song...but listen to it and you will see that lyrics are a moot point), while Brigitte just took a chance to sing (and could not resist dancing as well...queen of dancing that she is).

On Friday we had a chance to spend time with my good buddy Steve Heinold's father in law, German. German is a pastor hear in Quito. We have gone to his church the past two weeks and have really getting to know him better. He took us to an area of Quito called La Ronda. It is a pedestrian only street that really fills up the later the night gets.

German took us to an amazing restaurant called Vista Hermosa. The view and food and the music were an incredible combination.

We went to the Mito De Mundo. This is a type of park that celebrates the fact that Ecuador is located on the Equator.

What is funny is that the park is actually not on the equator. They got it wrong by about a fourth of a mile. They realized this when they used GPS about 20 years ago. We then went to the real equator and documented our being in different hemispheres at the same time.

We also saw water drain counter clockwise on the north side of the equator, clockwise on the south side of the equator, and straight down without directly over the equator. We have video.

Tour de Quito

We have been reaping a harvest of cheap transportation here in Quito. Two examples. A 20 minute taxi ride from where we are staying north of the city to downtown is only $2-3 depending on your negotiating skills. Or if that is too pricey you can spend a quarter on a bus. We used these means...as well as our feet, to do the following the past few days...

In the Iglesia de San Francisco. I think this guy won. By the way David, this Baroque architecture screams, "Retire here!"

From the Iglesia de Compania with a view of the Iglesia de San Francisco.  If your vision is really good you can see the pigeons below. There is a legend that the man charged with building the square could not finish the square in time. So he made a deal with the devil to finish it in one night for him in return for his soul. The man hid one of the stones and thus was able to cheat the devil, keeping his soul. The pigeons are the demons that helped the devil build the square, and the pigeons, aka demons, only haunt this square in Quito.

Simon!

In the rafters of the Basilica del Voto Nacional. Two seconds later Brigitte fell through the rafters into the church. Psych.

Climbing the rafters and Brigitte pushing through a mean case of vertigo up a ladder meets stairs meets non OSHA approved iron work earned us this spectacular view of Quito. Old town Quito is not lacking in opportunities for Catholics to attend church in style. We visited three breathtaking churches within walking distance of each other.

YIMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!

We took the Teleferico (a cable car) into the mountains. The Teleferico is the the tallest cable car in the world. It goes from 10,000 feet to 13, 000 feet. BAM. Then we got high...er. 

And higher.

We rested near the top of Pichincha. This volcano is about 15, 500 feet. We put fourteeners to shame. In Brigitte's hipster words, "Fourteeners are overrated."