Happy anniversary to me! Ok, so it’s a bit strange to celebrate a two year wedding anniversary when my husband is a continent away, but I think I did a pretty good job, all things considered. But before I get to that, a bit about my adventures this weekend.
Shadi and I met up yesterday morning at 7:30 to catch our bus. We had two things: a ticket purchased by Shadi’s host family with instructions to change busses, and a final destination name from Alexandra (the girl we were visiting) who said we wouldn’t have to change. So basically we were a bit concerned from the start that we’d never get there. But we found our bus, got our seats, and crossed our fingers.
The bus ended up going into the Itag region beyond our schools north and west of Otavalo. It was a beautiful, albeit harrowing drive, hugging the mountains and descending into cloud forest. After three hours in we spoke with the driver’s assistant about where we wanted to go and he assured us he’d get us there no problem. We weren’t exactly convinced, but had no choice but to hope he’d take care of us.
A few memorable moments from the bus ride: 1) Staring out the window and realizing exactly how close we were driving to the edge of a cliff – for four hours! 2) The stop we made in a small village where in the market an entire pig was hoisted up in order to sell off bits and pieces – the local butcher, I presume. 3) The driver spending more time turned around talking to the passengers than watching the road. 4) The frequency with which passengers carrying live chickens joined us on the bus. This was especially entertaining as most of them managed to stand right next to Shadi who happens to have a fear of pretty much every living thing. One particular guy had two roosters which he let perch on the railing by the door, again very close to Shadi. The whole thing was pretty hysterical, especially when you figure we had no idea if we’d actually get where we needed to be.
But thankfully we did. When we got off the bus (many stares at seeing the Gringas getting off in the middle of NOWHERE), we were met by Alexandra and her sister, whose house happened to be next to the stop. Ok, now before I explain anything about the house and the family I have to say that I felt really honored to be invited, the family is absolutely lovely, and the experience was so worth it.
Disclaimer accomplished, let me describe the home. After climbing up barely fashioned steps, we came upon the house – a two story clapboard shack. We quickly learned that there was no running water. And, you guessed it, no bathroom – not even an outhouse. The world is their bathroom, you could say. Now, if you’ve been following my blog from the beginning, you may remember that I have some issues with other people’s bathrooms. But I would have gladly dealt with those issues in order to at least have something with a door. Worse for Shadi was that the house was full of dogs and chickens (in the house as there weren’t any doors).
After meeting everyone we sat down to a really nice lunch with the family that had been prepared over an open fire in the back, and we given the place of honor at the table. By place of honor I don’t mean an actual seat at the table, I mean the table itself, as it could only seat three. The rest took their seats on the floor. And the lunch was interesting: potato, yucca, and banana soup, cauliflower mixed with canned tuna, and rice. I’ve gotten pretty used to this kind of lunch, so I was fine with it, and I knew my stomach would tolerate it well (important consideration given the bathroom situation). However, when Shadi and I were presented with glasses we had a feeling there could be trouble. The glass contained lemonade of sorts – obviously made with local unfiltered water. Between the two of us we counted nine bugs floating in the glasses. Shadi and I knew that this drink could spell our intestinal doom, but we didn’t want to be rude, as it was obvious that the family had pulled out all the stops for us. We each got half a glass down and prayed. Many thanks to the bowel gods, we were just fine.
Quick aside… The family had a small pen in front of the house that contained two cows a bull and a donkey. I would just like to say that the expression “hung like a horse” really needs to be changed to “hung like a donkey.” I swear I thought this animal had five legs before I took a closer look. Totally disturbing.
Anyway. We (Shadi, Alexandra, three of her six brothers, one of her five sisters, and I) set off for the school, which ended up being a 45-minute downhill walk. I made a passing comment about how hard the walk would be going home, but we’ll get to that foreshadowing later. When we arrived it was very obvious that no one was expecting a couple of Gringas at this party. I’ve never been more stared at in my life. Our presence interrupted a volleyball game so that everyone could get a look. But Alexandra introduced us around and everyone was so welcoming and cool. We watched the volleyball game for a little while, and then moved onto the site of the piñatas, which I took part in – blindfolded and feeling like an idiot, but at least willing to join in.
Then came the cock fight. Oh yes, a cock fight – held in the classroom of the school. Now I didn’t want to miss out on a cultural experience, so I paid my $1 and joined the crowd of men to watch the fight. It was pretty fascinating. Preparing the roosters involved fastening a spike to each leg for the purpose of jabbing the butt of the bird every time he lifted his leg. This was to piss him off and create a more exciting fight. Attaching these things was a pretty intricate procedure that involved electrical tape and melted wax, and took ages. The fight itself was a flurry of feathers and pecking. Essentially the two birds peck at each other’s heads until one can’t peck anymore. And while this happens the owners make sure the birds stay in the sand circle, only picking up the roosters when the ref indicates to do so. During that second or two, the owners actually suck the blood from the rooster’s head, I think to clear it away, but I’m not sure. So yeah, it was gross. The only good thing I can say is that the roosters don’t fight to the death, and the money from the fight did benefit the school.
Afterward, in the same classroom as the cock fight, the music kicked on and the dancing started. It wasn’t lost on me that I was dancing on sand with rooster blood from the fights only a few minutes before. When in Rome… I danced all night and it was such a blast. I probably looked like an idiot, but the beer helped mitigate my caring about such a thing. However, by the time we left at 1:00 am (we’d arrived around 4:30) I was exhausted.
So now comes the previously-alluded to walk home. At this point there were about ten of us altogether, including two children under five, and the only light we had to navigate by came from a cell phone. It was a long, uphill, dark and scary walk home. Shadi was petrified that dogs would jump out of the dark, I was nervous about falling on the rocks that made up the road, and each of us were pissed that we didn’t think to bring the flashlights we’d left behind in Otavalo. It’s very strange to walk in the dark. I was holding the five-year-old’s hand and I don’t know if I was there to keep her from being afraid or the other way around. I kept trying to push away that which prevented me from seeing and because we could only see a few feet in front of us it felt like we were walking off into eternity. But after an hour or so, we made it back to the house to finally get some sleep, or so we thought.
The only room in the house had been made up for Shadi and me. We got the only proper bed in the house, and everyone else ended up on the floor. It was really kind of the family to make us as comfortable as possible, and it wasn’t lost on us. However, as I was getting changed and Shadi said, “Oh my god, look at that” I knew this wasn’t going to be home sweet home for me. On our wall was a cockroach about the size of my middle finger. I really thought it was there to eat me. I bravely picked up a shoe to make it good and dead, but missed of course. Out of sight out of mind I thought, until Shadi said, “Look at that spider.” Ok, I draw the line at spiders. What Shadi feels for dogs, I feel for spiders. I totally can’t handle them. And this one was the biggest fucking spider I’ve ever seen. It was literally the size of my hand. This spider was going to fight the cockroach for the chance to eat me. Now even with the mosquito netting over the bed, there was no way I was going to sleep with that thing in the room. So I instructed Shadi not to take her eyes of the demon spawn, and I went out to get some help.
As you can imagine, the family thought this was the funniest thing in the world. I explained that I’m from a city and we don’t have spiders that big. One of the brothers came to my rescue with a broom. But of course he missed his target, convincing me that I would have to start the long walk back to Otavalo as I had no intention of sleeping in the same room as that spider. But thankfully he went hunting for it, and considering it was HUGE it was easy to find. Out came the brother with the spider dangling by a leg.
With the spider properly disposed of, and a check under the sheets to make sure none were waiting for me, Shadi and I climbed into the small bed to spend a sleepless night worrying about what else was out there to get us. At 6:30 we looked at each other in agreement, “This was great, but let’s get the fuck out of here.” And by 7:15 we were on the bus bound for Otavalo.
It really was such a cool experience though. The family was so inviting and friendly, and really went out of their way to be hospitable. And it was as far off the beaten track as it gets, and I feel really honored to have been a part of it. We attended a local community celebration that didn’t cater at all to tourists, but the people were happy to receive us. We spent a night in a house that isn’t all that different from those our students live in, which offered us a lot of perspective. You won’t hear me bitching about my apartment ever again (except maybe for the ceiling fan in the living room, I hate that damned thing).
We got back to Otavalo around noon for much-needed trips to the bathroom and showers then met up later for my anniversary celebration. Shadi took me out to one of the nicer restaurants in Otavalo, or I should say she took me and Jon to this restaurant, as his picture accompanied us. We had a lovely meal complete with wine and dessert. And Shadi let me ramble on all night about how Jon and I met, what he was like, etc. If I had to spend my second wedding anniversary away from my husband, this was the best possible way to do it.
So all in all it was a great weekend. I’m off to Cuenca next weekend, which should be great fun, and hopefully will not involve any crazy spider stories as Shadi and I have decided to shell out for a nicer hotel.
