Saturday, Sept. 15 2007
They say; "El cielo de Quito es como el caractar de las mujeres. Muy variable." Well, if you ask me, I just blame it on the mountains. The city is surrounded by an extraordinary panorama of rolling hills blanketed with haciendas slowly crept upon by urban sprawl, and snow-capped mountains edging these green borders. One of these mountains is Cotopaxi; because of the equatorial bulge and the mountain's sheer height, it is said to be the closest point on earth to the sun. The city itself is almost a perfect rectangle interrupted by el Panecillo, a fantastically high hill topped with la Virgen guarding the city. This magnificent statue was constructed in France and is made purely from aluminum, though I would swear it was made of stone. The cobbled road leading to the statue hosts an array of artisan stalls, some of which sell canelazas, cinnamon infused liquor which promises to warm you at the windy peak and send you home in a stupor.
My Ecua-family consists of Martha, Ramiro, and their nine-year old daughter Michele. Martha is the picturesque host mother: intelligent, generous, patient, and eager to please. These qualities are manifested in her domestic and professional life. As a mother she refuses to let me wash the dishes (though I beat her to it last night!), has already washed my clothes (which after three days has only amounted to two pairs of underwear and a pair of stinky socks), and endures my occasional stumbling, stuttering fits of Spanish. Though I conceded to try eating meat only if it was sourced locally and sustainably (and did try a few tasty morsels of chicken), she has gone out of her way to serve me fish, to find soy-based meat products (though I insisted I rarely eat these at home), and to placate my palate in other meat-free ways. Martha is forever cooking, may it be delectable soup after soup, lemon bundt cake, or fresh fruit juice. I suspect this skill is inherent, as I've tried her sister Elisa's passion fruit mousse, her sister Veronica's guayaba mousse, and her mother's empanadas verdes con queso and homemade banana chips, all of which were superb. Martha's mother and Veronica own a restaurant in Tumbaco, which I had the pleasure of visiting when Martha took me to see where the World Neighbors office was located (the nonprofit I will be working with). It is five minutes from the office, and just under an hour from barrio San Juan where we live. Martha also works with a non-profit dedicated to rural development projects among indigenous communities in the northern Andes, and acts as consultant to other foundations seeking to implement similar initiatives.
Ramiro is a history enthusiast with resolute patriotism for Ecuador, and more importantly Quito. Since childhood, he has watched the government convert nearly half of Quito from haciendas into cluttered urban residences. This reform was intended to give marginalized populations uncultivated land, though the government lacked sufficient foresight to realize that one needs money to build on, cultivate, and maintain land. Hence, its current state of cluttered affair. In three days Ramiro has taken me on more tours than the average tourist completes in a week, all with ample descriptions of this particular house, and that particular statue. His child-like animation actually has me engrossed in the city's unique legends, many of which stem from indigenous, Incan roots. We have visited el Panecillo, Quito's shopping centers (a.k.a. malls), spent three hours mastering the city's bus systems, covered the entire centro historico on foot, located both rock climbing centers, and enjoyed a huffing puffing run through the nearby park, an aromatic oasis of eucalyptus trees. Ramiro is his own boss; he drives children to school each day in a mini-bus painted yellow with the word ESCOLERA boldly plastered on each side. Coincidentally, this is also the family car in which I'm privileged to ride at all hours of the day and night despite my non-student status.
Michele is the star of the family. At nine years old, this young lady has a serious affection for sweets and all other edible products, TV, cell phone games, my computer, and identifying the color of my underwear. Oh, and thumb war (we are currently in round two of a tournament with yours truly in the lead). On Thursday she came home from school with a doctors prescription for medicine, claiming she had the onset of a cold. As Michele's health seemed impeccable without the slightest hint of illness, Martha refused to medicate her. Ramiro explained to her that antibiotics would debilitate her immune system further and that te con canela y limon is a far better cure for such maladies. Michele is either a rising actress or a hypochondriac, like myself. Did I mention she is currently snoring away on my shoulder? She has taken quite strongly to me. This morning I was coaxed out of dreaming by a light kiss on my arm and then in came Michele to snuggle under the covers with me!
