MISSING!!! FLOATIES & MARGARITAS

Last night I got to see one of my old favourite people... Hjalmar.
He's in his late 40's now and has a family, but he's still my old friend, Hjalmar.

He was the cousin of the family, and stayed at our house as well, going to university the year I was there.  God- a LOT of people fit in to that tiny house!

Me and Mari in one room, Duval and Hjalmar in another, Mami & Papi in their room and the maid (or occasionally maid & her daughter... or two maids) in the small room off the kitchen.


Looking back at my old memory books from my year in Guayaquil, I found excerpts like;

"Woke up late today, kinda bored... fought with Hjalmar, played Super Mario Brothers and ignored him the entire time."

"Decided that I hate Hjalmar and I probably won't speak to him for the rest of my time here."

"Hjalmar is the most annoying person I've ever met." 

There were quite a few entries like this.  More about my younger brother, Duvalito... but still lots about Hjalmar too! 

I know that I have already put this photo in,
but I thought it was appropriate to add it one
more time on the day I saw Hjalmar again!

As much as we fought (and believe me, it was all stupid,) but still, to this day, I consider Hjalmar the best friend I had in Ecuador.  He was one of those guys that would drive me anywhere I needed to go, pick me up later, deal with me drunk (no small task for any of you that have been in a similar position), change the channel if I was bored watching his show, listen to MY music and all my dumb stories, play Super Mario Brothers with me all afternoon, explain the soap operas to me when I was confused... and basically just be a friend.  This was important to me, being so young, so far away from home and sometimes a little bit lonely.  

Most importantly, he was never afraid to call me out on my shit.  That can be a good thing and a bad thing... but reminiscing now, I'll go with 'good thing.'

It was also Hjalmar that promised me Ceviche con Camaron (or the Galapagos... however you wish to look at it) - and did NOT deliver.  I have chosen to forgive him though, as he recently had some issues in his neck and back- and had to have day surgery while I was here.  I thought that I wouldn't get the opportunity to visit with him, but we did... albeit brief.

We laughed a lot and mostly he just brought up embarrassing things that I did and said when I was 18.  He remembered that I wouldn't ever let him call ME an 'asshole' (even when I was probably being one) because obviously that word was solely set aside for the purpose of insulting/describing 'men'... not ladies, such as myself... and he also brought up the fact that for almost an entire year, all I ate was spaghetti and butter.  I'd forgotten about that doozie...

I've been 're-promised' the Ceviche Camaron... when I return in another 26 years.  I told him that maybe I'd just take the money and buy it myself.

I went to the pool today.  Yep... there is a pool here and I can't believe that I didn't pay more attention to it earlier.  It's awesome.  I can honestly say that there only things really missing are the cabanas, the complimentary towels, the margarita bar and the floatation devices that hold your margaritas while you laze around.

When I first arrived, I just lied down on the plastic chair and read / listened to music for about an hour.  Then I decided it was time for a dip and maybe I'd sit on the steps and read my book...

By the way, I'm reading Furiously Happy.  It's brilliant.  Highly recommended.

But No... the 'lifeguard'... and I use that word loosely, because besides myself, he was the only one there.  Just some guy, studying what appeared to be an Algebra textbook and listening to music.  He stopped me before I could even get close to the pool and made me go back to the house and get Mari to have her vouch for me,

For saftey?  Sign me in?
I don't know.

Mari did come back with me and later explained to me that many people try to scam the system by sneaking in only to use the pool.

I'm baffled.

So... basically I'm a pasty white, chubby Gringa, with limited vocabulary, who has somehow masterminded the art of breaking in to a gated and patrolled community facility for the sole purpose of sitting half in and half out of a public pool, while I read a book on the amusement & complexities of mental illness.

It seems to go hand in hand.

Anyway... I'm burnt to a crisp now.  It's awful... and when I say 'awful,' I mean that it's not only awful to look at, but awful to live with.

VAMONOS AHORA!

This morning I woke up to my host mother coming in to the room to pick up the landline phone... because it was ringing, of course.  Mari has kindly given me her room while I am visiting, which one one hand, I love the privacy, and on the other hand, I feel bad that everyone else is put out on account of my visit.  Anyway, the phone is in this particular room.  I woke up immediately, and from what I understood, Mami told me that she was going to see her sister and would be back soon.  

Ok.  Fine with me.  Ciao... have a lovely time.  The less time in the car for me... the better.  I need to get a shirt made that says "Hell no, I won't go... in the car... for a bit!"

My new novio... Juan Pablo

I attempted to drift back to sleep, but about 20 minutes later, Mari came in the room to get something from the closet.  I said "Is Mami going on the bus?"  She replied, no, and that she was driving her.  I took my sweet ass time getting up.  Wandered downstairs for coffee... breakfast was sitting on the table waiting for me.  I wondered how long they were going to be, because I knew we had a very important dancing session to attend at some point during the day.

I'll elaborate on this, slightly...

I was told a couple days ago that Mami has dancing classes a few times a week, at a local gym.  Now in regards to the word 'gym'... it's not actually a gym, but a large community function room, from what I could gather.  Only a half an hour class and then they'd planned something fun... that almost sounded like we might be going to a park.... maybe?

As I mentioned yesterday, the mystery location comes in to play, and you just nod your head out of politeness.

I sat there, lazy, in my pj's, nibbling slowly on breakfast... when suddenly I realize that Mari is outside with the car on, waiting. Mami is rushing around trying to get out of the house, and Alex asks ME if I'm ready... que?

"No... no voy."  (translation: "I'm not going.") 

"Si." 

"Creo que no." (translation: "Don't think so.") 

"Si... vas a ir.  Nos vamps ahora." (translation: Yes... you are coming. We are leaving now.") 

"No... en serio. Creo que solo Mami y Mari se van." (translation: No... seriously. I think it's just Mami and Mari.") 

"Y yo y tu." (translation: "And you and me.") 

"Si?" 

"Mami - Joanna viene también?" (He yells upstairs to Mami - "Is Joanna coming too?") 

"Si." 

Fuck...

Literally 7 seconds to get ready.

Brush teeth, throw hair in messy bun, water splashed on face... tank top on, shorts, glasses, grab phone & wallet... GO!

No purse... no book ... no charger.... nothing.

We went back to Tia's.  I don't really know what they do there, but they all disappear down the hall for some time and are not heard or seen at all.  I sit.  Finally we all left... and walked to the 'gym' so Mami could dance.

"Media hora?" (translation: 'Half hour?") 

"Si... mas o menos." (translation: "Yes.. more or less) 

"Si?" 

"Tal vez 40 minutos." (translation: "Maybe 40 minutes.")

No... no no no... NO!
40 minutes, my ass.

ONE HOUR.

One hour of my life that I will never get back.

The hardest part was back at the house, while everyone is asking me if I had fun and I really liked it.

What am I supposed to say to that?

"The first minute was funny... then I wanted to run screaming."   

Back at Tia's... sitting in silence.  Finally, I had to move, so I got up and wandered through the mall that was next door.  When I came back, I discovered that the big plan for the 'park' was actually a 'park with animals'...  otherwise known, throughout the world, in the simplest terms and most convenient definition as... 'the zoo.'

All that kept going through my mind was, "How do I avoid this one?"  The last zoo that I was at was in Sydney, Australia in 1994 and I spent the entire time in tears, much to the entertainment and horror of the group I was with, devastated that the animals were in captivity.  

I had to explain that a park sounded absolutely lovely, but 'with animals'? 

No... please, no zoos. 

Mari tried to explain to me that it was VERY popular with the children... hence... ??  I then left it in their hands, but suggested that perhaps I might take the day to revisit the centre of Guayaquil in the daylight. 

Very, very dangerous... no way could I venture in to the centro by myself. Out of the question.

It was suddenly decided!

We were all going.

It ended up being fantastic... according to me, anyway.  We walked almost the entire promenade and in the opposite direction that Duval & Pamela had taken me.  I saw 2 iguanas, took some photos, ate some ice cream - and then we decided to do a boat tour to Isla Santay!

Isla Santay is a protected wetland island right in the middle of the Rio Guayas and is now recognized nationally due to the importance of its ecosystems as fundamental for global conservation.  Mouthful!  You can probably tell that I just wrote all of that because I paid attention during the tour and I'm very intelligent...

This could be me...

Anyway- this island has crocodiles (some in captivity... so I guess I did get to the zoo indeed), 85 bird species, reptiles (boas and iguanas), raccoons (bastards are everywhere!), anteaters, bats... 

But back to crocodiles.
These are right up there with sharks in my personal fear factor.

Most of my conversation for the day was;

• Are there crocodiles in the river?
• Can you swim in the river?
• If you swam in the river, would you die because of being attacked by a crocodile?
• Were crocodiles here 26 years ago?
• How come no one told me that there were crocodiles here?
• How many people have died because of crocodiles?
• Do crocodiles ever venture in to the city?
• Do crocodiles ever jump in to the fishing boats?

My honest thoughts?
Why bother with the life jacket?
The crocs are going to get you regardless.

And those are just SOME of my questions...

Honestly though... I need to look this up... purely for educational purposes... and my own sanity.

I should probably mention that I've always had a strategy for being attacked by both sharks and crocodiles.  Sharks... I would hold firmly on to their fin until I would naturally die from being drowned... which, to me, is a much better way to die than being torn apart, limb by limb.  Also... on the off chance that I don't die, a dolphin would eventually come along and save me.  With crocodiles, I hear that they shake you until you're dead, then take you down to the bottom of the river and bury you under a rock until they are ready to eat you.  If a crocodile ever attacked men, I would just pretend to already be dead (therefor eliminating the need to shake me)... then I would slip under the rock and then make my big escape once it had swam away.

Of course, this is all pending on me actually seeing the shark and/or crocodile coming at me.  They can't blindside me or the plans will not work.

While on the island (any tour, actually)... I don't know why this surprises me... but it does.  Tour guides present their tours as 'tours' but in actual fact, what they really are, are cash grabs.  And I expect that there a percentages involved in sales...

Nothing I hate more than being given an hour to hang around and 'wait'... which is code for 'go to the only restaurant on the island and order from their menu of 2 or 3 things.'

So... we are forced to sit by the restaurant for an hour... waiting.

Recycling so tall for people so short!

I think there should be one boat for those who want to eat and one boat for those who don't.  Plus they didn't have water. 

By the time we got home... 9 hours we'd been gone.
... dead phone... sweating...

Kind of wish I had been better prepared for the day.  Miscommunication at its best.  Honestly, I was probably told but just either didn't force myself to comprehend... or didn't listen at all...

My big sayings when I'm confused are;

• No entiendo.
• Nada... no.
• Otra vez por favor.
• Mas despacio...

Then normally I can get it....

At first I found it interested that I couldn't find Suntan Oil anywhere, and now I realize "why bother with it?"  In this heat,  your entire body turns in to a thick layer of oil...

RANTS & BABBLE

The beast, jumping up, trying to
get to me and kill me,
through the glass door

Ok... this dog has got to go.
All day all night barking, aggression, growling, snarling... your basic, average psychopathic beast.  I admit, I have had my moments of fun... deliberately aggravating him, but now I just think that he should be put to sleep to spare the world his foul character.

No word of a lie, if he were to get free, he would kill.  Me, to start with... and then loose in the neighbourhood, who knows who his victims would be?  Babies?  Toddlers?

Where is the dog whisperer when you need him?  Off the air?

Call him... this is a severe case.



To tell the truth, I tried to be a bit of a dog whisperer around him for the past few days.  

Why not? 

I thought, "I like dogs... dogs like me."  



Hell, I even HAVE one.  So I tried to talk in a smooth, calming & complaisant tone... to no avail.   Now... I have posted this video you see here, but it hardly does justice to the situation.  It appears that the dog is just merely excitable as he heads out for a walk, but let me assure you, it veers far, far, far from excitement alone...

Enough about the stupid dog.  That was Rant #1, by the way.

The other day I took a selfie, standing beside a brick wall.  To me, it was very reminiscent of one that might be taken of Rick Mercer... 
So I have decided to rant for a minute.

I think that most of this blog has been exclusively dedicated to ranting & babbling, but I want everyone to know how much I actually want to say and don't... 

Perhaps it is to protect the innocent or to protect the guilty... but mostly, I think that it's just to protect me from being alienated or assassinated, should this blog get in to the hands of the wrong person.  There you have it... 

Rant #2...

Being in a foreign country and staying with friends & family is fantastic... until one thing happens.  Then everything falls to shit.  This one thing is the 'car ride' to the unknown.  A place that either;

1. No one has told you about.
2. Told you, but made it seem very nonchalant.
3. Told you, but you weren't listening or didn't quite understand, but nodded your head anyway, out of pure politeness.

Either way... the location is a mystery and the time spent there is also a mystery, because, as a guest, you can't really pipe up and announce that you've had enough of your time wasted in that place and you'd really appreciate the 'moving on' part of the journey to commence immediately.

Nope... you sit there... and you smile.

You sit there with no wifi and you play Tetris on your phone until it's dead.  You curse yourself for not charging your phone more or bringing a book or a journal...

The next subject is the absolute WORST... there are no holds barred about speaking about someones flaws and faults... when that person (me) is right there. They look at you with true empathetic concern, just wanting a shred of justification as to 'why' we ended up like this?

This can be anything!  And I mean anything from;

• How much you eat or you don't eat.

• How big or fat (or both) you are.

• How tall you are.

• How big or small your boobs are... gut, double chin, bum, cheeks... etc...

The list goes on...

I challenge anyone... no matter how much you do or don't know in regards to the language, you sure as hell know the exact words that tip off your insecurities! You're ALL over that shit. 

Usually I try to brush it off... it hasn't happened a LOT this time, but enough to definitely make me remember the blatant conversations from the last go-round!

I have not had an English conversation since I left Quito.  

OMG... I just realized that you could almost replace 'English conversation' with 'wine'...

One glass since Wednesday.  It's Wednesday.
Someone needs to buy me a week cake.

Ok... back to communication... my Spanish words are coming along slowly, but my understanding of what everyone is saying is improving daily...

Pat on back for Jo.  

Pat now before it's way too red & sunburnt to touch.

I know what comes next... dreams!

Other things make me laugh.... AFTER the confusion is over, of course. Actually everything always makes me laugh... it's just stifled sometimes.

Rant #3...

There are some words that are just not known to me (or seemingly untranslatable to the English language) ... no matter how much you try.  I've got all the bells and whistles too.  I try not to go anywhere without Google Translate on my computer or my Speak & Translate app on my phone.

Take, for example, Pan de Yuca. (translation- Yucca Bread)
Delicious.  I really like it.  I can imagine eating the entire bag of them, should the challenge ever present itself.
But... the big question of the day is... what is yuca?

This was the conversation that followed;

"Que es yuca?" (translation - "What is yuca?") 

"Yuca." 

"Si... pero... que es" (translation- "Yes... but... what is it?) 

"Yuca...  Yuca."

This being said slightly slower, yet louder.

"No entiendo 'yuca.'" (translation - "I don't understand 'yuca.') 

"Es como las papas." (translation - it's like potatoes.)

Hmmmm.... pullin' blanks here.

So I did what any sane and resourceful person in my position would do, I pulled out my computer and inserted 'yuca' in to Google Translate.

This is what I got. 

The best part of it all was that everyone was happy, and pointing at the translated word, like suddenly, if you added one 'c,' I would have complete comprehension, and we could all rejoice and go on with our lives.

Nope... I still don't get it.

Maybe I'm the dumbest person in Canada.  No idea where Turquía is and I've never heard of Yucca... 

But it's out there... a very popular root vegetable (carbohydrate) in South American cuisine.

Another one was 'cuy.'

This one is particularly entertaining for me, because it's what Mari suggested we eat when we got to Cuenca for our first night there.

I just gave her a blank stare... and the usual conversation ensued...

"Cuy."

"Que es cuy" (translation - "What is cuy?")  

"Si... cuy!" 

"No entiendo 'cuy.'" 

"Cuy, cuy, cuy..."

I don't just suddenly understand a word that I've never heard before by having it repeated over and over again.  Then it all came out...

Mari, in her best English, chose her words 'poorly,'

"It is like... little rat."

Conversation over, regardless of whether or not she got the word wrong.  You can't tempt me with that description.  I'm out... 

Later on, I hit Google Translate... 'cuy'...

It comes up in English as the exact same word.  At a big time loss here.  But I persisted through modern technology and didn't stop until I discovered it was basically Guinea Pig... but I still decided that maybe I wasn't in the mood to try it quite yet...


Rant #4... Toilet paper.

• If you have it when you need it, be overjoyed.
• If you don't have it when you need it... well, life sucks, because no one is bringing it to you.
• If you desperately need it and they sell it in a nearby dispenser, hopefully you have exact change to buy 1 metre of it.  If not... that sucks too.
• If you have the change to buy it, but the machine has run out, that also sucks big time.

Or... my personal favourite, is when a certain location has complimentary toilet paper, but the dispenser is located outside of the bathrooms and you forgot to grab some before you went in to do your business.

This happens to me more often than not, because I have not yet customized myself to actively seek out TP before I enter the stall.

Regardless of any of those scenarios, if you end up with toilet paper and all is well, your next challenge is remembering NOT to flush it, but to put it in the bin next to the toilet.

This takes real concentration, skill and precision... and you can have the best intentions the entire time you are in the stall, but fuck right up at the final crucial moment, because, let's face it... it's just not something that you're used to doing.

I haven't even mentioned the smell of the stall garbage bin... have I?  I'll leave that up to your imagination.

Last rant of the evening... #5-
Margarine

Now... they say 'mantequilla,' which properly translates to 'butter,' but 'butter' it is not...
Margarine, excuse me for saying this, is pure, disgusting absolute shit.

And it goes in everything!

Mami was making Plantain & Cheese balls this morning- and in theory... they should have been absolutely delicious.  Plantains boiled up and mashed, salt, cheese... and a LOT of margarine.  Then they are supposed to be fried up in oil until crispy on the outside, but I have to say, the margarine completely  destroyed the entire experience for me.  I could not kill the taste of margarine in my mouth and floating around in my stomach... all day long.  I intend to make them when I get home, with real butter, and I fear that I may become addicted to them, because they have the potential to be heavenly!

But man, it was awful how it lingered.  The smell, the taste, the thought... 

If you ask me, margarine is only good for perhaps curing constipation and I already took care of that all on my own, last night.  Oh- and it's probably very instrumental in assisting with self-induced vomiting as well...

Just sayin'

For the entire week, I have been repeating myself whenever the family asks me what I like and don't like to eat.
My lists consists of 'mushrooms' and 'cilantro.'

I will now be adding Margarine to that list.

Rant & babble over... for now, anyway...

Have a good night everyone!

UNCEASING & VEHICULAR

Up early and out of the 'hostel'... a term I use very loosely, as  I do have better words that I can think of... but we can go with 'hostel' to keep it creditable (on my end, anyway.)

So the little midge/mosquitos bites that I got the other day... I think I probably have Malaria now.  They started off as little bites... itchy... normal.  They escalated to red bumps... itchy once again... then on to small blisters... ... oozing maybe Malaria?... and now they have turned into nasty little disfiguring lesions.  And ONLY on my ankles.  Perhaps some mosquito net socks might have done the trick.

Are stomach cramps a sign of having Malaria?
No... I think that's the ever-developing constipation again...
God... the things our bodies go through when one toilet breaks...

We stopped at a local restaurant while we were waiting for the car parking area to open.   Pan con queso, cafe, jugo... heuvos... (bread with cheese, coffee, juice, eggs) the usual breakfast delights.

Grabbed the car and skedaddled out of Cuenca pronto.  I was going to suggest a quick stop to Banos, but I think Mari was done with the tourist part of the weekend.  I didn't want to push it.

The ride home wasn't as foggy as the ride there.
Don't get me wrong... there was fog... but it was nowhere near as hazardous as it had been a couple days prior.

I spent a lot of time taking photos out of the window,
 to capture the country life of Ecuador.

There were definitely moments of alarming and pure hair-standing-on-end... Mari has a little bit of a heavy foot when it comes to the break pedal, and we followed a bus so closely for most of the trip, that I thought, for a time period, we might as well be ON the bus.

I spent a lot of the time, staring out the window and trying to capture some shots of the typical country life outside the city, as we zoomed by.  Definitely not particularly professional shots, but I think I fared well considering I was sitting in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle.

Definitely NOT Oliver Twist...

When we finally arrived back home at La Joya in Guayaquil, most definitely , the largest lunch I've ever seen was awaiting me!  A daily conversation here is how much I eat.... and believe me, I'm not starving, nor am I fading away at a rapid pace (as one would hope.)  I honestly believe that Mami wants to double my portion to ensure that I don't mysteriously vanish... Between the sitting and the eating, no wonder I tower over everyone.  Indisputably, I'm Brienne of Tar.

I have come to accept the fact that no matter how many times we cover a certain subject, no matter what I do or don't do, or how much I eat or don't eat, we are always going to discuss;

1. Eat more! Por favor!!! Eat!
2. When are you getting married?
3. Why don't you want children? WHY???
4. Please have a baby and give it to me. (Mami)
5. When are you coming back to Ecuador?
6. You like beer?

To these, I respond (daily)...

1. I'm full.  Please don't make me eat anymore.
2. I'm never going to get married unless I'm desperate for a party, gifts and some money.  So... maybe soon... who knows?
3. I'm too selfish for children.  Potzy is my son.
4. Believe me, if I have a baby, you can have it.
5. Why don't we get this trip over with before I start planning to come back.?  Aren't you sick of me yet?
6. Nope... I don't like beer much at all... I like wine.  In fact, I'm addicted.

Usually I leave the 'addicted' part out...

After lunch, I was helping with the dishes, which is also a struggle, because I think that Mami feels she needs to wait on me hand and foot.  I have to literally force myself in to the kitchen.  I think I've really impressed everyone with my ability to carry many plates in one hand. Hospitality experience pulls through once again.

I had asked Mari earlier what the plan was with the car rental when we returned to Guayaquil, and her exact words (and I quote) were, 

"Probably I return the car and then take the bus back home."

That was the plan. Sounded good to me.  Bueno.

The part that I wasn't aware of... whether it be due to appalling miscommunication, my only selfish disregard or sudden change of plan.... was that I was also involved in the 'return the car/bus' arrangement... and going along for the ride... again...

You can imagine the pure horror when I found out...

"Noooo... por favour! Noooo.  En serio????"  (translation- "No... please! No. Seriously?)

I didn't intend to be rude, it was just the initial reaction to having to return to the car again.  But... yes, to be polite, and save face from my immature little outburst... I went along.

I tried to take my computer along for the ride, so that I could, at the very least, catch up on a couple days written adventure, but Mami made me put it back in the house, for fear that someone might steal it while we were on the bus.

Half an hour ride to the airport rental car location.
Another 40 minutes for them to look the car over for damage, fill out rental return forms and rip up unused authorizations.

Then the bus...

We walked a little ways to the actual airport and caught the first bus from there.  When I say 'first bus'... there were 3.
Half hour on this one, got off, walked a bit, missed the next bus, waited longer, boarded the second bus... rode another 20 minutes.... got off, walked a bit, got on a shuttle bus... got off, walked a bit.

My question of the day was;

"Would a taxi not have been twice the price, yet 1/4 of the time and 100% less hassle?"

I was only met with laughter and "muy caro, Joanna!"

On bus #1

Home again, home again, jiggity jig...  

In total, it took us 2 & 1/2 round trip.  Don't get me wrong, it was quite the experience being back on the local buses again.  But I think it's less of a bus ride, and more of an experiment in human sardine packing, if you ask me.

Tomorrow, come hell or high water, I refuse to get in a car.  Wild horses couldn't drag me.  I will be walking and standing the entire day away.  Mark my words...

Sitting here now, writing... there are dogs barking, alarms going off... Sometimes I think that this gated community is a cross between the dog pound and burglary planet.