The kitten and climbing Imbabura

I´m still alive! It´s been a very long time since my last update so I´m definitely going to skip a lot of what´s been going on and just focus on a couple of recent things.

The first is I´ve been sick again but this time it was just a regular cold. Pretty boring compared to other stuff I´ve had (giardia being the most interesting). Unfortunately, I always seem to get sick when my community parties - which means they play music very loudly all night long from 7 p.m. to morning. And last week was the celebration for San Francisco de Asis (Assis) so I actually went without sleep three nights in a row, after my cluster´s get together at which I also didn´t sleep. Fun!

And then about a week ago I did something a little impulsive.


After my weekly Andean flute lesson, I pretty much galloped to the Plaza de las Gallinas, the small animal market. I went right to the pet section and found an older woman with a tiny cage full of meowing kittens. I asked the price - $1. I didn´t think I could beat that, but I looked around just to see what other kittens were around. But I went back to the lady and asked for a macho, a boy...just as I found one I liked, a little girl walked by and spilled her entire pop drink in the cage. All the kittens squealled and cried as the woman pulled out my kitten, which was also crying. Oh boy. This was it. A dollar? I asked. The woman balked and paused as though to reconsider her original price, but then nodded. She plopped the kitten in a disgusting bag reeking of rotten eggs and we went off to catch a taxi, crying kitten and all.

On the bus I put the kitten in a box and tossed the bag, but he refused to stay and much prefered to curl up and pass out on my lap all the way back to my site, a 2-hour ride.

Now he´s pretty much litter trained but he´s the most annoying creature in the world I´ve ever met. Around 5:30 a.m., or maybe earlier when the roosters begin crowing, he wakes up and sticks his face in mine, tickling my nose with whiskers or biting my cheek or fingers.



Part II: Imbabura

Last week a couple volunteers, an RPCV and myself went north to Ibarra to climb Imbabura volcano. It´s something like 15,100 feet or so high and was supposed to be somewhat of an easy climb. Of course, things don´t ever go according to plan.

The picture above is of Quito and a lovely nevado, snowy mountain, to what I thought was the north but it´s looking more like Sincholagua which is more to the southeast. I´m not sure. There are just so many... anyway, Quito is where we all met up.

That afternoon we continued north beyond Otavalo and to the pleasant city of Ibarra. We had to walk a little to a park where we caught a bus to La Esperanza...but unfortunately the bus was full and got even more packed as we continued, making it very awkward and uncomfortable for us with backpacks.

Soon enough we reached La Esperanza and the bus driver apologized for forgetting to let us off the bus at the hostal Casa Aida. No problem though. The hostal owners put us on the choza, the sierran-style straw-roof house where we relaxed until dinner. Dinner was awfully expensive ($4) and included a lentil soup, potatoes, cabbage, and meat if you eat that. We bought water, asked for lunches the next day, and arranged a ride for 5 a.m. to the trailhead.



The next morning we woke at 4:30 a.m. and scrambled to get ready. The hostal owners were already up and cooking and gave us our meal. Right at 5 a.m., our driver pulled up and we piled in.

It was about a 30 minute ride and we arrived in the darkness. The trail starts on a cobblestone road but quickly turns to a faded grass trail that also blends into a wider dirt track after passing over barbed wire. And up we went. Beyond pastureland, the trail gets extremely steep and the going was slow but still enjoyable as dawn came and clouds rolled in and out. Eventually we reached a less steep ridge that curved up counterclockwise. Morgan and I continued and Ricky and Angie stopped towards the top of the curving ridge. At that point we were all rewarded with an incredible view of nevado Cayambe, a glaciated volcano, floating above the clouds. And the summit of Imbabura, completely snow-covered, came into view.

So up a rocky gully we went for a while until we reached the top of another ridge. Along this ridge we encountered the snow, and the going gets tricky at this point. The trail winds up through rocks getting increasingly steep and more exposed.


Eventually we reached a spot where we were actually rock climbing, and Morgan mentioned she was pulling moves she would do on a rope. We poked and prodded around looking for a safe route up and I climbed down to a small saddle for a view to see if we could go around this rocky section, but we were totally confounded. Morgan sent a text to ask a Peace Corps climber friend if she could call us (amazing that we had service!). I got the call and we talked over where we were (exactly where we should have been) and what the problem was. The problem is, the route may be getting more and more exposed as time goes on, and snow just makes the route a whole lot more dangerous. So the three of us agreed it was time to head back. But the crater rim was so close and the summit so tantalizing...the ridge just begged to be walked. It wasn´t worth the risk, though, and being excellent advocates for self-preservation, we began the long descent back to civilization.


But we both want to return to Imbabura another time to climb it when there´s no snow on the rock climb section. And next time I´m probably going to bring my helmet because the rock is pretty rotten. I´m excited to try again because the entire hike was so enjoyable.

In my ´mountain a month´ plan, my occasional time to leave my site, I´m going to be attempting El Corazon and then Illiniza Norte with another Peace Corps Volunteer...granted we get permission. I´m super excited about Illiniza Norte! This should happen the last weekend in November.

Moo

Just a super quick update to give you a quick introduction to Moo:

Turns out she´ll do ANYTHING for carrots, dandelions, and clover flowers. When I let her out, she follows me step by step all over the place, and she´s polite too - she saves her bathroom time for when I put her back, or does it right before I pick her up. Thanks.

Moo hits the town

Last Wednesday I went to Riobamba as usual and read up on breeds of black and white rabbits. Looks like Moo is a mixed breed with mainly Checkered Giant in her but she lacks the distinctive black stripe down her back and the black butterfly on her nose. I also read up on ways to tame rabbits so I was excited to get back and try them out on her. She had other plans.

So I opened my door and looked immediately to the cage. She was gone. My eyes wandered to my room to look for her but instead saw that the entire floor was covered in rabbit poo. Every square foot, evenly distributed. I walked in shock to my room where the trail continued.

I was about to lean over and look under the bed for Moo when suddenly she surprised me - standing up on hind legs to greet me on top of my table - she's more hare than rabbit - looking extremely innocent and pleased. I swiftly picked her up against her wishes and saw there were blood splotches all over. Geez. What happened? She didn't look in pain and at first glance I couldn't find the wound.

I began by picking up all the poo...mercifully bunny poo is relatively neat compared with other animal poo. I was also pleased to see she had not yet made it to my bed, at least that I can tell. It seems she started by devouring her generously stocked bag of treats (dandelions, white clovers, and carrots). She wandered around below the cage, then hopped up somehow, and for some unknown reason, on the guest bed to explore there. She hopped back down, and up onto my bookshelf. Using the books like a ladder, she made her way on top of my table where I think she hurt herself. Conveniently, my bag of (human) food was on a chair next to that, so she helped herself to that and smeared blood all over. Finding the end of the line, she went back to the table for a snooze.

I haven't figured out how she snagged her toe. The blood began on my table but there's nothing on it that she could have caught herself on. Later that night she nipped the rest of the hanging nail off and the wound's healing.

She had been extremely naughty but she was injured and was actually pretty docile going back to the cage, so I went downstairs to cut up a carrot. When I came back, she had escaped again. But she heard me come in and, in an instant, she was racing towards me from my room. I stood in shock again as she ran up to my leg and nudged me, then stood up on hind legs to beg. I gave her a carrot and she ran off to eat it. Maybe potty training and having her run free isn't too far away... once I rabbit-proof everything.

So now when I open the top of the cage, she leaps up on my shoulder. I put her on the floor and she hovers around me begging for treats. If she runs off somewhere, she's learned one very important sound: the crinkle of a plastic bag, which means TREATS, and she runs back to me. She even responds to 'Moo,' 'come', and kissy sounds. It's great that she's mostly lost her fear of me, but it's also kind of sad that she's only interested in me for food.

Rabbits and Riobamba

Last Saturday my host and I went to Riobamba when the city has its major market day. Products flood into the streets and you can find anything you could ever think of or want. It's a fascinating place on Saturday and I love going, especially when I'm with my host because she knows exactly where everything is and she loves haggling.

First things first, we had to find breakfast. She surprised me and dragged me out of bed at 6:30 a.m. to catch the bus, so we hadn't eaten. The apparent vegetarian restaurant was closed so we walked around for an hour looking for another place but, finding nothing, my host led us to a small indoor market where we started off with corn and cheese tortillas and oversweetened coffee. I loooove those tortillas - they are exactly the same as pupusas in El Salvador - so my host bought a few more to bring home with us. I could have stopped there, but she insisted on having a second course. For me, it was a massive plate of rice, avocado, beets, salad, and bitter orange juice. It's funny how people here consider that insufficient, but in reality it's much more balanced and healthy than the food I make back home in the states.

After some more errands in that part of town taking up the whole morning, it was finally time to dive deep into the outdoor street market. The vendors and shoppers take over the street, but somehow the street isn't closed and cars - even buses - squeeze through the crowds. I followed as my host browsed around, happy just to be there looking.

We made it to the small animal pavilion where rabbits and guinea pigs were mixed together. I had both too many choices but too few because not many rabbits were the age I was looking for, about two months. I liked the mottled muddy brown rabbits because they looked like the wild cottontails in Illinois, but my host liked the "fancy" breeds.

It was sad seeing them all, though, because remember this isn't a pet market. These rabbits and guinea pigs are raised to be eaten and are treated like that too: when you seem interested in one, the handler picks it up by the ears and plops it in your hands before you can protest. That happened to me when my host oogled at a black and white rabbit that looked a bit too big. "Embra" (female) the handler said, picking her up by the ears. My host asked how much she was and handler said ten dollars, and plopped her into my too-small cardboard box in my arms. "Noooooo,' snarled my host, "No more than five." The handler scoffed and said no way, it's a female, nine and no less. "Eight," my host persisted. I didn't notice any sign of agreement and I for sure didn't say that was the rabbit I wanted. But my host said to pay her eight...so...I had a rabbit.

I thought for a bit. "It's called "Wagra" ("cow" in Quichua)," I told my host as we walked away from the livestock pavilion.

"Hmmm...no, it's a "Cunu" ("rabbit" in Quichua)," she answered.

"No, I mean, it looks like a cow so it's named "Wagra."

"Noooooo, no good. How about... "Colbel." It looks like a flower called colbel."

Hmmmm. She picked out AND named my rabbit.

After finding a couple hens for Campeon, we finally went home. I called up my folks and told them I had a bunny, and it was black and white. Mom immediately said, "NAME IT MOO!!"

So Moo it is. Or Moo Colbel. But I like Moo.

Moo's a little shy so far. She absolutely hates being picked up and thrashes wildly, kicking her hind paws out like a kangaroo which have already scratched me up pretty good. But I found out she goes crazy for clover, dandelion and carrot treats. After I gave her just a little, she now hops up on her hind legs to beg for treats whenever I walk by, every time without fail. At least now I can pet her without her running away to hid in the corner. Each morning I've been waking up worried and I nervously peek around the corner to see if she's still alive. After the two baby ones dying, I'm paranoid. But she seems super healthy and not ready to keel over any time soon.

The other day when I was reading in the afternoon by her hutch, someone started tapping on my window. Unlike my host, I figured it was a curious kid. I looked out the door. No one. I looked down the walkway. No one. Then 'tap tap tap tap tap.' A chicken. One of my host's two new hens made her way up the stairs and fluttered up to my window to, for some unknown chickeny reason, tap on my window. I grabbed her, but meanwhile her compatriot already made it down the walkway and through the railing onto the top of the gate where she could easily fall either out of the house or into the house. My host came out that second to tell me dinner was ready, and holding out the chicken, I just pointed at the other one about to escape.

And the next morning, when I didn't wake up at 4:30 a.m. when Campeon the rooster crowed, he came and got me. He hopped up the cement staircase and, at 5 a.m., bellowing, angry crows flooded my room. I swore he was crowing in my ear, but he could only get as far as my door. My host was up already, so I quietly opened the door so she wouldn't hear me, shoved him down the stairs, and slept for another hour.

He didn't forget. In the afternoon, as I sat reading in the sun in my room, he snuck up the stairs again. I didn't notice as he slowly placed himself in the doorway, about three feet away from me. Facing me, in his triumphant moment, he let loose his most angry, loudest crow.

Maybe I'll try eating chickens again.

(not really)

News: Sick, erupting volcano, dying rabbits and food

It's been a while! I'm still here, day 43 as a volunteer and going on month five in Ecuador. I haven't written much because it's been a very tough past few weeks.

The Friday my friend Jen (hey Jen!) left for Quito after visiting me and dropping off a care package from my parents in Illinois and my family in Ohio, I started getting sick. Really, really sick. I had a bad cough that wasn't productive at all, meaning I couldn't get out the gunk in my lungs. I coughed until my throat hurt and I'd almost throw up because it was so violent. And even better, a day after that started my nose went haywire oscillating between being stuffy and being ridiculously runny. When the cough wouldn't go away, I called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Office) for help. The doctor took in my symptoms and had me find a cough syrup in Riobamba.

Interlude: On the way home from that trip, it was perfectly clear (for once) and I finally saw Tungurahua exploding. That's erupting volcano #7 for me (Colima, Kilauea, Santiaguito, Fuego, Pacaya, Stromboli, Tungurahua).

So the cough syrup made me cough...a lot. My host thought it was trash and I had to explain it was good I was getting it all out. Unfortunately, the cold or whatever it was lasted over two weeks and I kept myself in bed for over one week. I'm not sure what it was, or if altitude has anything to do with it, but I'm guessing it does. I'm happy to say I was sick at 10,400 feet asl and recovered, finally.

Equally disappointing, though, is that while I was in bed, two or three days were beautifully sunny and warm. And now we're in a cold snap... or maybe it's just normal. It's been raining and cloudy the last 8 or so days and I do believe today the sun peeked out for a minute before disappearing again. It's been in the 50s in my room... like 10 C maybe?...and in the 40s outside at night. I've had dreams it's snowing outside - I wonder if it ever does? Apparently not but I'm not so sure. And it's true you get used to it, but 50s are rather cold for just hanging around. I miss the 60s when it actually felt hot. No matter how much I put on, my hands are still icy cold. Makes you not want to get out of bed in the morning, but when the alarm sounds and I move to turn it off, I puncture that little cocoon of warmth and that's it...might as well get up. You know after being in the cold and you shower, your limbs feel all prickly and painfully cold despite touching boiling hot water? That's how it is here. So... I don't shower every day.

Oh right... the other disappointing news that makes these past few weeks extra tough. While sitting on the balconey reading one day, I saw a little white ball of fur hopping around below. I went to catch it, this little white bunny, and immediately wanted to keep it. So I offered my host $10, the very premium price for grown rabbits here, and kept it for four days until it unexpectedly died. It was one of sweetest creatures I'd ever encountered and I was sort of expecting it to live for seven or more years, so I wasn't at all happy... if not totally distraught. My host plopped another tiny bunny in my lap while I was eating breakfast the next day, and this one had a lot more spark than the last one so I thought the first was just a fluke. But in four days, that one suddenly seized and died too without any hint of impending death. I cleaned out the cage and set it outside. I'm done for now as much as I'd love to have a rabbit.

And then I spotted another tiny escaped rabbit. I caught it, put it back in the cage outside, and when I went back upstairs, saw it hopping away again. I went back, caught it, put it in the cage, and hid around the corner to watch. Within seconds, it squeezed its head comically through the fencing, fell four feet to the ground, and promptly began grazing. I walked away and let it.

Ironic interlude #2: I just spotted another escaped rabbit, this one fully grown. It didn't run as fast but it was smarter and a lot more difficult to catch. It kicked...hard. All muddy because it's been raining the last two weeks. I'm suggesting free range rabbits.

Outta end on a happy note eh?

Ummm...

Well...

Oh! At my favorite grocery store in Riobamba, I've made quite the amazing culinary discovery. They carry basalmic vinegar (for $3 a bottle, about the same in the U.S.), Mac 'n cheese (both the American version for $2.73... ouch... and the Ecuadorian version for about $1.50), Oreos, peanut butter (in a bag), chifles (plantain chips but I've grown a little sick of them now), candles (I've looked all over and finally got them! great because of power outtages and slight warming effect), and other fun treasures. The element of choice doesn't exist here like it does in the U.S., and though people get along just fine, obviously, some things that I really enjoyed back home are hard to find or impossible to find here. It's really exciting when these 'long-lost' things appear.