"they don't believe in seatbelts, here." i'll never forget those first words as i stepped out of the mariscal sucre airport amidst the bustling hub of people and taxis and failed to find any indication of a seatbelt. moments later the small car, somehow still driven on the streets since the 80s, with a steering wheel the size similar to that of a small boat, swerved through what was barely the "yellow zone" of traffic lights. after bouncing around a maze of streets and hills, we arrived at nancy figueroa's house, my home for the next month. mariana, the program director for eli in ecuador, nancy, royal, another student volunteer staying at nancy's house, and i sat down around the kitchen table in the traditional ritual of introductions and chatting as i drank a sweet yogurt drink to "help the stomach" before we all retired to bed.
the next morning, i woke up bright and early for my own private city tour of old quito. after a delicious breakfast of freshly squeezed fruit juice, scrambled eggs, vegetables, and tea, i met miguel, mariana's son who would take me around for the day.
we started at the basilica del voto nacional. voto is another word for faith. native animals of ecuador, including various birds, iguanas, monkeys, and dolphins line the sides of the basilica while stained glass windows spill sparkling light all along the interior.
we climbed, and i'm not kidding when i say climbed the 350 foot high towers of the basilica on both sides to receive gorgeous 360 degree views of quito.
between the two clock towers, whose clocks appear rather out of place with the rest of the gothic architecture (both were made in september 1993, one of which has been broken since october 1993) we had a wonderful view of el panecillo. on this round hill, which is said to look like of piece of bread (pan), stands the largest aluminum structure in the world of el virgen de quito.
after ringing the bells at the top of the clock towers, we slowly descended our way down and began to wander the labyrinth of streets and plazas as miguel divulged various legends and myths of quito. we entered various churches of baroque and contemporary architecture, where golden clad cherub’s look upon the quiet praying public below and loud spanish christian pop music plays in the background.
after returning home for lunch with nancy, my sister and brother, araceli and juan josé, and their father, gustavo, i left again with miguel to go to the mercado. there, we shared a feast of fruits i had never seen or heard of, nor had a clue how to eat. tomates de árbol, taxos, guanabanas, granadillas, uvillas, tunas, oritos, and my favorite, pitahayas. these look like smaller versions of pineapples where inside is a semitransparent pulp and black seeds. it also happens to be the most expensive. one for $1.
after failing to flag down a legit taxi, we took an illegal one to la foch, also known as gringoland, the center for tourists and nightlife. miguel worked in some of the bars and discotecas for a number of years and knew many of the men standing outside the clubs, attempting to persuade customers to enter the dark and empty rooms of flashing green and red lights and deafening reggaeton and pop music. granted, it was only 6:30 pm.
also, I have no idea how it started, but everyone calls me anita.
No comments:
Post a Comment