Just Enjoy the Ride

Why is it that travellers tend not to be bothered by what would seem to be the most inconvenient of circumstances? In fact, we revel in it! Is it because we have zero expectations? Or, on the contrary, do we expect that things are not going to go as smoothly as we would hope and so are not disappointed or surprised when, as expected, they don't?

After 4 days of wanting to jump out of my skin due to the sickness that, at one time or another, strikes any foreigner to Latin America, I enjoyed the rest of my descanso in Quito. Yes, I went back to Quito. I didn't think it would be so soon but I am pleased to find myself with a far better taste in my mouth about the city and what it has to offer. Staying in the historic district, my hostel was one block from where I was mugged so I got to trompe everyday past the monument where it happened, stare it in the face and say, “Ha! I came back! See? I'm not afraid!” Then I went on my way and discovered the charm of the city's historic center with its old-fashioned cafes, restaurants, churches, etc.

Yesterday was the long trip back to the jungle and let me tell you, I am just happy I made it here in one piece. Instead of taking the long bus rides from Quito to Tena, then Tena to Los Rios, Ryan and I opted to drive back with Jose (the administrator of the new Yachana Institute) who is from the Spanish Canary Islands and therefore a challenge to understand as any “s” in his speech is pronounced as a breath of air.

It was convenient that he was returning to Yachana on the same day because driving in private car takes only about 6 hours rather than the 8 or 9 in bus. Or it should anyway. As tends to happen, the trip started out smoothly, Ryan and I met Jose at the airport at 8:35 when his plane landed. “Hola! Como ehtan uhtedeh?” Right on time. We were in the car headed to Tena by 9:00a.m. Earlier than expected. But Ryan and I weren't fooled. We had established ahead of time that we were without expectations of arriving on time, if we even were to make it that day. We simply sat back, enjoyed the extra leg room, and let things unfold Latin America style.

Our driver was Roberto, whose glasses magnified his eyes to look twice their size, and who used his stick shift as a break when going down hill, down shifting to third gear and making the van work hard to keep up speed with his heavy foot.

We made it to Tena around 1:00p.m. We were to pick up a weeks worth of food that had already been ordered and set aside for us to pick up at the open air market. When we got there, the amount of food we were to take was unbelievable. Boxes of lettuce and cauliflower and pineapples, sacks of potatoes and apples and onions. Once there, we realized we were going to have to back in the van to load up.

But of then, the first road block – Jose hadn't yet gone to the bank to get out the money to pay the market vendor. (Ok, who goes to the market with the intention of buying A WEEK'S WORTH OF FOOD FOR 25 PEOPLE and brings no cash?) So Jose and our driver went to the bank. First of all, yesterday was a holiday. No one had to work so where is everyone? At the bank. And not only are all the people from Tena at the bank, but all the people from surrounding communities and small towns where there are no banks are there too. Second of all, the ATM in all of Ecuador only allows a withdrawal of 100 dollars daily. I understand, how was Jose supposed to know that being a foreigner?

We finally met them back at the market at around 2:00p.m., paid the vendor for the vegetables and loaded up the car. All four of us stood at the back of the van, looking in the open doors at the expanse of produce that we had just piled in. Jose said, “Me parehe mucha comida pa veinte perhonah.” This seems like a lot of food for 20 people. Indeed it did. And the rotting process had already begun as it had to be close to 95 degrees in Tena at 2:00p.m.

It was lunch time and we were all hungry. As we had already spent a good hour in Tena, and we still had quite a trip to Los Rios and a full car of produce to unload out of the van, into a canoe, and again out of the canoe to the lodge once we arrived, the most logical thing to do would have been to pick up a quick sandwich, a choclo con queso from a street vendor, or one of the quick in-and-out lunch restaurants on every corner whose whole purpose of existence is to get people back to work on time (or back to work at all). But Ecuador gave up on logic a long time ago so Jose and Roberto's decision to eat at a sit down restaurant that was more crowded than a Sunday Mother's Day buffet at Bob Evans, was no big surprise. An hour and a half (and three beers) later, we were ready to go! Almost.

We needed printers ink. Why, I ask, did we wait until arriving in the jungle to buy ink rather than anticipating that the jungle would be an unreliable source of anything related to computers and purchasing an ink cartridge in the great metropolis of Guayaquil when Jose was there for a week? Foresight also not being a strong point in Latin America, Jose and Roberto jumped around to a block's worth of computer shops where they found that the only ink being sold was colored, and they wanted black. So they made their way. Empty handed, back to the van where Ryan and I had waited. Forty minutes (and one ice cream) later, we were off to Los Rios. After one last stop.

We needed toilet paper. So rather than stopping at any little corner store, any of which is empty at any given time because the identical store next door is sure to sell the same thing, we stopped at the super market which, yesterday being a holiday, was packed beyond capacity. 20 minutes (and 30 rolls of toilet paper) later, we were on our way. Really.

But now it was 4:30, and we had at least a two hour car ride to Los Rios, and everyone knows the sun goes down at 6. By 6:30 we would be working with darkness. So Robert began to drive... and drive he did. He took advantage of the hour of tarmac that ends abruptly at the dirt road that takes you through small communities until you reach the Napo River, passing slower trucks and cars and whizzing by small children who walk barefoot along the highway. We were literally racing the sunset.

The rocky road continued and continued and seemed never to end as the sky changed from blue to golden to pink to musky purple as the sun went down below the trees. I enjoyed the jungle view and the breeze on my face through the open window, intentionally having decided not to worry about the increasingly real possibility that we would not make it to Yachana that night. 3 hours, one missed turn (and one starry night sky) later, we arrived in Los Rios.

Looking around the sleepy community where locals sat around the community television watching an American movie in English with Spanish subtitles, we saw no conoe. Jose was frantic. “Vamoh a tener que dormir en el carro que te parehe?” We're going to have to sleep in the car what do you think?

As Jose wandered around under the stars searching for cell service, we heard the sound of a motor on the river. We all rushed to the bank and looked out, waiting to see if it was the Yachana canoe there to pick us up (and our 400 pounds of produce). We were in luck! I almost wanted to kiss our canoe driver and thank him for venturing out onto the treacherous Napo River in the darkness of the night.

No one wanted to load and unload the produce, so we abandoned the van, took our bags, and piled into the canoe. On the river the moon produced a comforting glow and in the distance shown rays of lightning while above us the sky was clear and starry. We flew down river faster than we flew down the road in the rickety old van; air in my face rather than dust kicked up by the buses that drove in front of us. It felt good to be back on the river!

Maybe travelers have fewer expectations. While Jose and Robert grew increasingly more frustrated with each other and with the situation at hand, Ryan and I smiled. It wasn't so bad! It was comical and to be honest completely foreseeable! We had made it in one piece and even gotten to take a canoe ride under the stars. Life is pretty good.