Medellin, Colombia

Medellin is a pretty big city northwest of Bogota famous for two natives: Fernando Botero and Pablo Escobar. Until recently it was the murder capital of the world as Escobar´s cocaine empire fought with rival gangs on the streets. Now, however, the city is emerging from this period as a vibrant center of commerce and culture. The people from the Antioquia Provence, called ¨paisas,¨ are known throughout Colombia for their industriousness and work ethic.

Interestingly, Medellin is also the plastic surgery capital of Colombia, with many women coming from other provinces and countries for ¨augmentation.¨


My Digs
Ana`s family´s generosity followed me to Medellin. It turns out there was an apartment available in a building owned by Luis´family and he offered me the chance to stay there. The building is in central Medellin, right across from the Plaza de Botero. It was somewhat shady at night--lots of prostitutes right outside--but a good base from which to operate. Here´s the building, called Edificio Aristizabal:

And here´s my apartment:

Central Medellin

Outdoor Shopping

Here are some shots of central Medellin. Right near my place there was an open-air market that would run from mid-day to around 10pm. There were fruits, vegetables, fish, and even meals served complete right outside:

Plaza Botero

Right across from my building is a big plaza with a couple of museums and a whole bunch of Botero sculptures (Botero was born in Medellin):

Plaza Bolivar

Around the corner is Plaza Bolivar:

My Trip to the Countryside

One of the cool parts about staying in Ana´s family´s building was that the staff there really took me in. Grace, who seemed to be the building manager, sent me out to the country on the back of Carlos´motorcycle to see some of the surrounding towns.

Here´s Carlos with his bike:

First, we stopped in the town of San Jeronimo to meet Carlos´family and see where he spends his weekends. Pretty much all the folks in this picture are Carlos´cousins and they all live together. Below is where his dad was hanging out. The property is beautiful and includes a river (in which I swam) and ripe mangos all over the place (which I ate).

Next, we headed to the towns Sopetran and Santa Fe de Antioquia. Here´s a picture of the main church in Santa Fe.

Along the way, we visited the historical Bridge of the West which connects Santa Fe with Medellin. It was built at the end of the 19th Century and declared a monument in 1987.

Nightlife--El Poblado

Again, I don´t have pictures of my nightlife in Medellin because I was being cautious. But, most of the nightlife for young people occurs in a somewhat posh suburb about 10 minutes south of central Medellin called El Poblado. There are two main parks, Parque Lleras and Parque Poblado, where people sit outside, drink beers, and generally hang out. Most of the bars and clubs surround these parks.

I met some cool folks from Casa Kiwi (the hostel I would have stayed at if I didn´t get the free apartment) and met up with some ¨amigos de amigos¨a couple of nights.

General Impressions

A few general thoughts on Medellin. First of all, the poverty was much more in my face than when I was in Bogota. This is probably a function of where I was staying. There were homeless and disabled folks all around, plenty of prostitutes, and--most disturbing--filthy kids sleeping in the streets.

Next, I was struck by how hard people seemed to be working for so little. One guy was on the street all day yelling every 5 seconds to sell little packets of gum. I don´t know how much he was charging, but it couldn´t have been more than five or so cents. Another guy was selling 12 tomates de arbol (type of fruit) for 1000 pesos, or 50 cents. Along with the guys who walk around with fists full of watches, these folks are busting their butts, but I just don´t understand how they can scrape together enough to make a living.

Finally, lots of travelers fall in love with Medellin and end up staying for weeks or months. [For one example, see my friend Robin´s travel blog at http://www.findrobin.blogspot.com/.] This didn´t happen to me, but I think it was at least in part because I didn´t have the time to get into the rhythm of the city. I only had three full days there and was only able to hang out with each of the people I met there once. I can see how with more time, it would be a cool place to hang for a while.

Bogota, Colombia

Family and Friends of Friends

What made Bogota so special for me was that some good friends opened up their lives there for me and shared their family and friends with me. I want to especially thank Ana, Marcela, and Nelcy for welcoming me so warmly--often from thousands of miles away.

My Fabulous Host Family

I was hosted for my entire time in Bogota by Ana`s father Luis and stepmother Cathy, along with her sister Sophie and brother Emillion. They are a fantastic multicultural family. Cathy is French, and everyone speaks both French and Spanish so naturally that I actually asked them how they decide which language to use.

As I was leaving for Medellin, Cathy and Emillion were heading to the airport to go to France for 1.5 months to visit grandpa and other brother Julian (who hosted me the most by lending me his room), and Sophie will leave very soon for Boston to study English under Ana`s guidance.

More importantly, though, they made me feel completely at home. They fed me meals (with the gracious help of Graciela who cares for the house), took me around the city, invited me to play cards, and generally hang with the family. Cathy became like a second mom, always worried that I was safe and ate well. My own Jewish mom would be proud.

As the least I could do to return a small portion of their generocity, I cooked dinner for the family on my second-to-last night--chicken parmesan, my favorite. Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal (complete with a cheap bottle of wine I bought and a nice French bottle they opened), and we played cards until after midnight. Here´s a picture of us all after dinner:


Luis is an engineer by training but is currently starting a second career as a student of art and owner of a gallary. Here are Luis and Cathy at the gallary in front of a photo I thought was especially cool. It depicts four skyscrapers heading into the sky, but can be seen as nature X-ing out the buildings:


And here`s my (I mean Julian´s) room where I spent about 10 days:


Marcela´s Charming Parents

When I was heading to Bogota, both Ana and Marcela offered me the opportunity to stay with their parents. Since I bought my ticket from Quito the same day I wasn´t about to tell either of them when I´d arrive until the last minute--and hence wasn´t about to get in touch with Cathy until I arrived in Bogota at about 9pm.

Through an unfortunate mix-up, it turned out that Marcela´s parents were waiting for me at the airport with a sign with my name. Damn, I always wanted to be greeted at an airport like that and when it happened I never saw them and took a cab to Ana`s parents, who I´d been able to speak with.

But, all ended well. Luis and Cathy live inside Bogota, whereas Melinda and Alfonso live about 40 minutes outside the city in a suburb called Cota. And, they were incredibly nice about the mixup and picked me up and took me out to lunch on Sunday and showed me their charming home.
Melinda is a teacher and Alfonso is retired from the Siemans corporation. They´ve got chickens, a doll house, an outdoor BBQ area and a view of open farmland. Truly beautiful. They also took me to nearby Chia, a bigger suburb that´s home to the famous Andres´Carne de Res (more on that below).

Much is made of the hospitality of other regions of the world (other than the U.S. or NY, I guess), but this day really made it hit home. As much as I love my parents, I´m not sure I can imagine them driving into New York City to pick up a foreign friend of mine they´ve never met (or probably heard of before, and who speaks limited English), bringing her back out to Roslyn, taking her out to lunch and dessert, showing her our house, and then driving her back into the city--effectively spending most of their day entertaining a friend of their son´s.

This is exactly what Marcela´s parents did for me and it was really cool. I think we think of ourselves as way too busy for something like that in the States--or at least in bustling NY, not sure about a place like Montana where my friend Ian just sent an email about a significantly different style of life.

Downtown Bogota

I spent two days wandering downtown Bogota and the Candelaria area. The first day, Cathy took me to the central plaza.

Here´s the main court (site of a raid the killed a bunch of justices):

The congressional building:

And, of course, the cathedral:

A few days later, I hit the museums.

Donacion Botero

My favorite was the Donacion Botero. Although Botero is from Medellin (born 193 2), he donated a huge collection of his works, along with others from Picasso, Dali, and other masters to the city of Bogota (much to the consternation of the citizens of Medellin, although there is also a Botero museum in that city).

As many of you know, Botero has a distinctive style--portraying figures as fat. Here´s the giant hand at the entrance to the museum:

Statues of Adam and Eve:

This is a 1988 painting called Guerilia de Elisea Velasques that depicts the violance in B0tero´s native Colombia:

Casa de Moneda and Museo de Oro

Next I checked out the much-hyped Casa de Moneda and Museo de Oro (gold). Frankly, I was disappointed by both. It was kind of cool to see the different forms of money and learn a bit about the emergance of currency in Latin America, but I wasn´t blown away. Here´s the entrance:


As for the Museo de Oro, some of the displays were interesting, but I was hoping for more of an explanation as to WHY gold became some important in the pre-Columbian era and to the Spaniards. We know now that gold has useful properties such as conductivity, etc. But, back then, it was pure decoration. So, why gold? Others have told me since that it is because of its resemblance to the sun--but I couldn´t find any explanations in the museum

Also, I´ve always been particulary fascinated by the Catholic Church`s obsession with gold--especially in poor countries. While the lay population can barely put food on the table, the churches are literally coated with gold. What kind of god would sanction that scenario, would want that money to be spent guilding his castles instead of feeding his people?

Here are a couple of shots from the museum:




Aldeafeliz

My friend Ana is a member of an eco-village outside of Bogota called Aldeafeliz (www.aldeafeliz.org). She hooked me up with Carlos, who currently lives there. He and his girlfriend Tatiana took me out there for a few days.

It was a very relaxing few days of reading, going to bed early, and sharing in the communal work. I picked coffee, turned over the compost heap, and translated about half their website into English (with much help from Carlos and my Spanish dictionary).

Here are Carlos and Tatiana:

And here´s the rest of the crew in the kitchen and computer room:

Here are some shots of the beautiful grounds, including the lake where I took a dip:

Some freshly picked coffee drying in the sun:

On my last day there, a group of ninos came with a camp and had a fun day exploring the place. I hitched a ride back to Bogota on their bus.

It was a nice, relaxing experience. The folks who live there (10 of them ranging from 23 years old into their mid-fifties) were super nice and really welcomed me into their lives. They live outside in tents, do everything together (cooking, cleaning, sharing the work, etc.) and run all sorts of cool programs for kids and adults and sell sustainable products like soap, shampoo, and food.

Nightlife

I don´t have any pictures from my nights in Bogota because I´d been scared ¨responsible¨and have left my camera at home when venturing out after dark. But, I did have a couple of fun nights out dancing Afro-Colombian, salsa, and meeting lots of cool people.

I wish I had more time to explore the scene a bit more, but alas...


My Charmed Last Day in Bogota

Bogota has been very good to me, and my last day there brought it all together. Ever have one of those days where you just sort of know everything will work out--and it actually does? Well, this was that day.

Monday was a national holiday (some Catholic thing, I think but nobody seemed to know exactly what it was for) and the day before I got an email from Mafe (Maria Fernandez), who I´d been out dancing with on Saturday night. She wanted to see if I was free for a day trip to go to the famous Catedral de Sal, an underground church built by salt miners entirely of--you guessed it, salt.

Conveniently, Andres Carne de Res, a famous steakhouse/party spot was sort of on the way home, so I proposed adding that to our adventure. Mafe agreed and the next morning we were off...

The Tourist Train

The most fun way to get to the Catedral de Sal is a tourist train that runs on weekends and holiday. We showed up just a few minutes before the train was scheduled to depart and they were no longer selling tickets. Since the multiple stations are not linked by computer, they had to use an elaborate system featuring walkie-talkies to determine if we would be allowed on.

They were letting people on in groups--and four seemed to be a popular number. Our first piece of good luck came when we teamed up with a nice couple with a small baby to make a foursome, and snagged some of the last seats on the train.

Here´s the train from the outside. Mafe told me they had to sell ads all over it to keep in running because of funding problems. Nestle to the rescue...

Our luck continued when we were seated at first in the dining car--perfect for ordering a hot tamale breakfast. Here´s a picture of breakfast.

Various bands came around to play traditional music on the train. It was really cool. When I´m able to upload them, I´ll post some video on this.

Catedral de Sal

At the train station we took a short busride to the Catedral. Here´s the entrance:

We entered the tunnel into a different world. It reminded me of Superman´s home, or the moon.

Here´s Mafe in front of one of the many salt crosses...

...and in front of a salt nativity scene:

And here I am in front of the main cross in the main room. This cross is actually cut out of the salt (rather than made of it) and lit from behind.

Andres´Carne de Res

After the Catedral, I wanted to go to Andres, which I had heard a ton about. This required a bit of tricky maneuvering without a car. We had to get off the train and catch a bus to Chia, the suburb where Andres is located. But, our good fortune continued and within three minutes of hopping off the train, we were on a bus for the 20 min ride to Chia, where the bus left us off a five minute walk from Andres.

The main principle behind Andres is ¨sensory overload.¨ It is a huge restaurant/bar/party space (can accomodate 3,000 people at one time) with all kinds of shit going on at once--eating, drinking, dancing, actors playing chefs walking by, all kinds of junk hanging from the ceiling. Here´s what it looked like walking in:

And here are Mafe and I at our table complete with bibs and our feast:

The food was good, if a bit pricey. It turned out, though, that money was no object.

We had originally been seated near one of the several dance floors, but it was a bit noisy, so we asked to be moved to the cozy table above. Seated next to us were two businessmen. The younger one was fairly reserved, from Spain. The older guy was drunk and talkative. Oscar is from Medellin and currently living in Miami. He proceeded to tell us about the businesses he owned, his gigs as professor at Harvard (Kennedy School and Law School), his son the graduate of UPenn Med, etc. He then told us he was a part of the Sindicato Antiogueno and the Groupo Santo Domingo, which Mafe told me are extremely powerful business associations in Colombia.

He was a bit overbearing and his friend was clearly a bit embarassed. And, I assumed he was making much of this stuff up. But, he liked us because when he mentioned Harvard I mentioned Yale (mostly to try to see if he was bullshitting and how he would react) and Mafe´s family is from Medellin, making them fellow ¨paisas.¨ So, he kept talking to us.

Sure enough, just when this was getting a bit too much, Oscar says to us, ¨I would like to invite you tonight...¨which in translation from Spanish means he was paying for our dinner (we were speaking English, but to ¨invite¨someone is a Spanish expression meaning you´re paying for him/her). So, what started as an entertaining, if slightly annoying, Colombian encounter ended up as another pleasant surprise in our charmed day--free dinner.

Here we are with Oscar. Oh, and he gave me his number in Miami and said he´s looking for lawyers--so I´m about to be rich, too.

After dinner, we danced for a bit at Andres, but they were shutting the place down. We headed back to Bogota, but we didn´t want our charmed day to end, so we kept hanging out until we had to get some sleep for work (Mafe) and travel (me--I was headed to Medellin the next day).

A great way to wrap up my time in Bogota. The next day I enjoyed a last lunch with the whole family before I headed to the bus station and Cathy and Emillion headed to the airport. I was touched that they invited me to join them for lunch even as the family was headed to different parts of the world for more than a month.

I hope to return to Bogota someday soon...

Some Reflections

[No pictures in this post, so feel free to skip]

When I started this blog, I promised occasional reflections on life and travel as well as uninformed opinions about just about anything.

And, my original intention was to make the blog short and pithy--in other words interesting to potential readers. I was even writing myself emails with more detail on my trip so I could spare y´all the boring parts but still have a record for myself later on.

Those who have been following the blog may have noticed that it´s become less pithy and more of a plain old boring journal. This has been partly a result of entropy and partly by design.

Obviously, it's harder to be clever and interesting than just dump everything onto the page. But, I also realized that the primary audience for this blog (aside from mom, of course) is me--that is the me of five or ten years from now. In other words, this blog--with pictures and all--will be the best way for me to remember this trip, not some self-addressed emails. So, I've adopted more of a diary style and sacrificed ratings points for completeness.

This is all by way of apologizing and explaining to those of you who have been reading. Now, for some of those promised self-indulgent reflections...


Penalty Kicks

Let's start with the trivial. Being in Latin America, I've watched a lot of soccer lately. It's pretty much on at every bar with a TV and on ESPN 24-7. I understand why people love soccer. I'm amazed and enchanted by the skill of the players; and scoring is so difficult that when it happens the play is usually spectacular--hence the appellation "the beautiful game" (and hence the reason that soccer highlights are the best highlights around).

The other day I was relaxing in a bar in Quito watching the 21-and-under teams from England and Holland play. That game inspired this particular rant.

The one part of soccer I don't understand is penalty kicks. As most people know, when there is a tie game and a winner must be determined (not always the case), the game is decided by which team makes more shots from a mere 12 yards away--as was the England/Holland game.

But, the game is really decided by which team MISSES more shots. See, the penalty kick is so close that players score 90% of the time--it's kind of like the extra point in American football. This means that it's not really possible for any player except the goalie to do anything positive--they can only screw up. Score, and it's expected. Miss, and you may have just cost your team the game.

This seems like a cruel and terrible way to end a game--who will choke more under pressure. By simply moving the penalty line back a few yards, or using the existing 18-yard line, the soccer gods could flip this whole script.

From 18 yards, scoring is actually hard. The goalie has time to react and doesn't need to simply guess where the shooter will place the ball. Opportunities for greatness (rather than competence or humiliation) would abound--great shots, amazing saves.

It would also seem to better serve the ostensible purposes of any tie-breaker: increasing the chances that the "best" (rather than luckiest) team actually wins and being more exciting for the fans.

For example, since I didn't have a stake in the England/Holland game, I spent much of the penalty kick session feeling bad for the one guy on Holland's side who missed the goal in the first round (on his home field, no less) and then relieved when their goalie made a lucky guess, and hence save, so he wouldn't feel terrible for the rest of his life. I wanted to see heroism, not cringe at potential goat-ness.

So, I know that soccer has been the world's most popular sport for eons--but allow me to humbly suggest this small change: MOVE THE DAMN PENALTY KICKS BACK.


Novels

More trivia. Why doesn't anyone ever go to the bathroom in novels? It's something that all of us do every day, but I can't remember ever reading about it (whereas novelists will describe plenty of other intimate human acts in the name of realism). Right now I'm reading Rabbit, Run by John Updike. The book follows the main character, Rabbit, for long stretches but the only time it finds him in a bathroom it's to hide, not to...go. Just a random thought.


Traveling Con/Sin Amigos

For the first and only time this trip, I spent two weeks in Ecuador traveling with a good friend. This provides a good opportunity for reflecting on the pros and cons of traveling solo. Overall it was great to hang with Dave for 12 days--and it also confirmed that I made the right decision to do the vast majority of the trip solo.

My time with Dave was characterized chiefly by the significant gap between the level of our fortunes (low) and how much fun we had together (high). Dave, in particular, couldn't buy a break.

First, there were his materials loses. In the space of twelve days, Dave lost: his passport (before even leaving the states), his camera (at his first stop in Montanitas), his MP3 player and headphones, his flip flops (which became part of our Quichwa guide's tip--they were a nice pair), one shoe, his beloved "space pen,"and his equally beloved UVA hat. Damn, that's impressive.

But his bad luck didn't stop there. He also developed strep throat on his way to Ecuador, wrenched his back helping a casual anti-Semite lift his 4-wheeler out of the mud (see post on Banos), and felt too feverish to party on our last night together in Quito. Finally, on his flight home, the airline lost his bag filled with $170 in duty-free booze. He eventually got the bag back, but one of the bottles had broken, soaking his luggage in alcohol.

Then, there was our joint misfortune of spending an entire day trying (and failing) to raft because the river was dangerously high--which according to our guides happens only once or twice a year.

The bottom line, though, was that despite all of this we had a great time (at least I did, Dave will have to speak for himself when he guest blogs). We talked--a lot; and it was great to be able to discuss real issues of real consequence with someone who you know cares deeply about you. Plus, Dave is/was amazingly equananimous in the face of all of the above. Any one (or at most two) of them would have driven a more high strung person to distraction. I literally don't think I've ever seen another human less disturbed by losing a nice digital camera.

The positives and negatives of having a traveling companion were largely as I expected. The biggest positive was having a good friend around to talk to and never being lonely. It was also nice to have someone else take the lead on logistics for a while.

The most obvious negative was that much time spent hanging out with Dave was time spent not meeting new people and practicing Spanish. This was especially true because we chose to stay in double rooms rather than dorms. In terms of price, it's definitely worth the ability to nap and shower whenever you want; but you definitely don't meet as many people.

But, I also think there's something about traveling alone that builds character. You are forced to be creative, adaptive, decisive, and probable other -ives. And, perhaps most importantly, you must own all of your decisions and come to terms with the fact that your experience--for better or worse--is entirely of your own creation. It's kind of like life in that way. We have family, friends, etc., but at the end of the day we construct our own realities and those other folks are part of what we've created (we don't choose our family, but we choose how we relate to them, for example).

In traveling as in life our experience probably depends a lot more on the attitude we bring in than on our material surroundings. This reminds me of the reason for the name of this blog. Moving houses in Guatemala because of a rooster (gallo) caused me to reflect on the fact that the key to traveling (as in life) is to strike the right balance between seeking the best experience while at the same time being satisfied with (and living in) the experience one is currently having.

I've been happy, sad, lonely, introspective, hopeless, hopeful, dull, and enchanted on this trip--in other words quite human. I'm not sure I would have had the time or perspective to explore these emotions as fully if I was always traveling with a partner.

So, I'm thrilled to being doing this trip alone. That being said, I've seen a lot of happy couples on my travels and I'd love to have a similar adventure with a woman I love. I think that would be a completely differently fantastic experience. Applications available at the front desk...

Happiness

Spending time in a Quichwa community in the jungle with a smart, thoughtful friend provided a unique opportunity for reflection on the subject of happiness. I think this is a pretty important subject because (not being religious) I believe maximizing and fairly distributing happiness (human and ecological) is our ultimate goal.

The Quickwa are not wealthy people. Many live in the jungle without electricity. This leaves them without most of the standard gadgets that have become such a significant part of our modern lives, and with minimal contact with the outside world.

And, yet, they appeared to me genuinely happy...and well adjusted. More so than most communities I know. This struck me most in the children. They seemed carefree, and they seemed to respect their parents.

Now, granted, I only met young kids who have not yet hit adolescence. It occurred to me that many of the girls I met may later develop body image issues, eating disorders and other maladies of our modern sexist world. But, I think there's a good chance they won't develop these afflictions at anywhere the rate our female population does in the U.S.

So, is being poor and out of touch the answer to our problems? Probably not, but being rich and constantly connected may not be all it's cracked up to be.

This reminded me (and Dave) of two essential facts about happiness that we tend to forget.

First, happiness can often be defined as the ratio between reality and expectations. We may be living the high life, but if we expect to be billionaires, we'll be disappointed with our material status.

Second, happiness is relative. We feel rich or poor, strong or weak, secure or insecure, in relation to our peers. This is why human happiness has not increased measurably with great advances in material wealth. [Economist Robert Frank makes this point elegantly in his book Chosing the Right Pond.]

The Quichwa don't have much, but they also don't expect all that much either. They're not inundated with ads that tell them it's impossible to be happy without an iPod or a Blackberry. They don't have the option of being a corporate lawyer, fancy consultant, or having a column in the NY Times (my secret ambition for years). So, their reality compares well with their expectations--hence happiness. This, of course, is largely a factor of their relative isolation. Their "pond" is the village--or at most nearby Tena--where no one has much more than they do.

This likely works in non-material ways as well, and here's where it gets complicated. If we expect love, fulfillment, contentment, etc. through work and/or personal relations and don't achieve them, we're unhappy. If we try our best, we're likely to end up smaller fish in a bigger pond--and risk feeling relatively...less.

But can the answer really be to lower our expectations radically, to moderate our ambitions and give up on becoming "all that we can be" (as the old army commercial put it)?

At 30 years old, should I give up on love and settle for "looks good on paper, probably won't drive me crazy?" Perhaps arranged marriages weren't so bad--they remove the expectation of pure romantic love but hold out the chance for a happy accident. Should we all forget about finding fulfillment in our work and personal lives and settle for "just getting by?" Will this acceptance make us more happy?

As you can probably tell, I'm not quite ready for that. I'm not pretending to have found any answers here, but my conviction is that the answer lies, as always, in balance.

We should nurture expectations that are high, but realistic. The major problem we have in U.S. society, I think, is the creation of unrealistic expectations--from airbrushed models to sitcoms in which semi-employed "Friends" live in ridiculous NYC apartments.

For this reason, it's always infuriated me when we tell our kinds "you can do anything you put your mind to." Actually, no most people can't do anything they want. Even if I practiced all day every day, I'll never be an NBA basketball player--or, probably, a nuclear physicist. We need to find a way to be realistic with our kids without robbing them of their dreams. [To be honest, I've also never understood why pumping our kids full of falsehoods, I mean fantasies, like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus is good for their development either--but I don't have a degree in child psychology and that's a topic for another day.]

Of course, the trick is in the detail, and I'm not revealing anything new here. But, I think that with all the privilege we enjoy in the U.S., there are certain things we SHOULD shoot for (if not quite "expect"). These include, love in our personal lives and fulfillment in our work. They do not include a BMW or a perfect body--and here lies many of our problems.

Interestingly, there is a project under way to bring electricity to Rio Blanco, the Quichwa community I visited. This, of course, will bring TV, ads, and a splash of "kalifornication." Some enterprising grad student should do a thesis on how all this affects happiness in the village.

La Comida Tipica de Ecuador

OK, I hope someone other than Adam Hollander enjoys this section--oh, what the hell, I don´t care; I like it. So, here goes, another edition of the only regular installment on El Gringo y El Gallo:


La Comida de la Selva


Here´s a rundown on the food we were served when Dave and I spent a few days in the jungle with the Quichwa community of Rio Blanco.

First of all, we got soup with every lunch and dinner. Here are a couple of types. The first is sopa de quinoa con yuca:




Next is masamora de verde, which is the most typical soup of the Quichwa:



For our first lunch, we were served a delicious fried talapia with fried yuca, beans, rice, and salad:



For dinner, we had palmita (heart of palm), which is one of the tastiest vegetables I´ve ever had:



This fish is called chuti in Quichwa. We tasted the babies fried. (That´s Pasquel, el profesor, holding it and Monica and Maxi in the background.)





Our last dinner was a delicious dish of leaves stuffed with hart of palm and chicken (ojas con palmito y pollo). This was truly fantastic--again, I never thought vegetables could have so much flavor.

And, for our last lunch, we had chicken with rice and--of course--more yuca.



Finally, last but certainly not least, is chicha, the beer of the jungle. To make chicha, the Quichwa boil yuca for 15 minutes, mash it, mix it with some old chicha, and then put it in a bucket to ferment overnight. Here is what it looks like in its traditional container:



And here I am partaking (not one to turn up my nose at local culture):



Interestingly, the Quichwa often drink weak chicha for breakfast. The stronger stuff is saved for fiestas.

I have to say that overall I was blown away by how good the food was. I wasn´t expecting all that much, but each meal was hearty and flavorful, complete with soup, a main course, and bananas for desert. I was always satisfied and never hungry after any meal.

La Comida de la Calle



As you all know by now, I love street food. Due to Dave`s reluctance to get sick on his short vacation, I didn´t indulge in as much of it in Ecuador as I would have liked. But here´s what I did get around to.

First, here is Edgar who runs a late night food stand (open ´till 4am) near the Tena bus station. He´s digging into a plate of cow intestines, which he let me try for free (Dave even had to try it against his better judgment b/c it would have been rude to turn down the offer):



Next we have a chicken skewer I bought on the bus. People are always coming onto the buses hawking every imaginable thing. So, I guess this is technically ¨motor vehicle food¨rather than street food...but I think the idea is the same.



Finally, this was technically sold out of a restuarant, but I think $1 shwarma qualifies as street food purely on principle. These were great and I think I ate 4-5 of them in two days while I was in Quito.






Food From Actual Restaurants



Every once in a while I break down and patronize an establishment with a roof and maybe even a health code certification.

Here is some shrimp ceviche I got my first night in Quayaquil:



Arroz con congrejo (rice with crab), also in Quayaquil:





And, this is Wilo´s (our Quichwa guide) favorite dish, ordered from a restaurant called Safari in Tena. It´s called chaulafun, a mix of chicken and shrimp with rice--and it´s quite delicious.



Dave thought the food in Ecuador overall was unremarkable. I´d tend to agree. There was all the usual fast food fare (pizza is as popular in Latin America as the States), and the stuff we got in restaurants was usually solid but not outstanding. The biggest pleasant surprise was the food we were served in the jungle.