tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55297851100472827272024-03-06T00:59:32.733-08:00Naissance of Awareness and ThoughtNataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-46300792998431223042011-04-22T10:23:00.000-07:002011-04-22T10:23:23.525-07:00Spring is slowly arrivingIt is still not warm enough here, at the foot of the Adirondacks, to wear less than a sweater outside. But the sun is convincingly trying to thaw the cold soil and crocuses can be seen lurking prettily at the edges of buildings and lawns. <br />
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As my semester speeds by, I am working on compiling my senior project, which has mostly involved learning to use GarageBand and how to properly cite pamphlets. As you may imagine, I have also become proficient at procrastinating, for which I have had the support of a couple good friends. My friends have recommended distractions from watching hilarious TV shows about unfortunate American family drama to cooking interesting combinations of cheap and ecologically responsible foods. Last night, while searching for a diversion, I came across this video, on an <a href="http://contemporaryartruck.blogspot.com/">Earlhamite's blog</a>, which I could watch repeatedly without getting bored:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/d6egUsZvWu4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-91933193366582457162011-03-01T07:37:00.000-08:002011-04-22T10:28:14.652-07:00It must be true, I saw it in a movie!Recently, I have been collecting birthing scenes from the media of the past three or four decades. This is mostly in an effort to put together a really interesting senior project, but also just because they are everywhere and fascinating. What we show and tell each other about birth probably contributes hugely to our perceptions and feelings around our own birth experiences. If you grew up knowing the birthing process only by the ten second clips on your favorite TV show with the woman in stirrups screaming while everyone around her forcefully tells her to push, I can't imagine that your expectations of your birth could be anything less than terrifying. Why do we portray birth the ways that we do? I think a lot of it has to do with fear of nature, the loss of humanly control, and probably a lot of ignorance.<br />
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For example, this past weekend, my friend Chloe showed me a clip from one of her favorite shows in which a pregnant woman goes into labor while stuck in a car that had just been in a bad accident. The labor begins with her water breaking, followed immediately by her quick and incapacitating contractions, and ten minutes later in the ambulance, an EMT shines a flashlight at her crotch, declares her 10cm dilated, and a clean very large baby is born shortly thereafter. If I were to know little to nothing about birth, after watching that I may be under the impression that usually women go from no labor to pushing in a matter of minutes, that when in labor, a woman cannot move, that to know that a woman is 10cm dilated, you need not actually check the cervix, and that babies are born pink and shiny at the age of four to six months. "Well," my friend Brodie asked, "have you ever seen an accurate depiction of birth in a movie or TV show?" Mulling it over, none of us could. If you have seen one recently (specifically in a mainstream media production) <span style="font-style: italic;">please</span> let me know.<br />
Have you seen Lady Gaga's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV1FrqwZyKw">new music video</a>? <br />
Have you seen the movie Juno or Knocked Up? What other recent films/shows have you seen with birthing scenes? What did you notice? What did they emphasize? If you start thinking about it, you'll start seeing birthing scenes everywhere.<br />
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My favorite find so far has been in 101 Dalmatians, the original animated version. Toward the beginning of the movie, there is a rather long scene of Bongo, the father Dalmatian, and his pet (the human), pacing around outside a closed door, on the other side of which the mother Dalmatian is giving birth. The nanny/nurse is running in and out and giving brief incomplete updates to the excited/nauseated/nervous men, and a clock is ticking loudly in the background. This movie was made in the sixties, and depicts pretty clearly what the accepted role of the father was in a birth - outside. This birth scene, in a classic American children's movie, was the catalyst to my search. I continue to enjoy collecting scenes, but this remains my favorite.<br />
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<img alt="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXxAdwDo7qPImTyGKgLNiBz1snvDW3uy9rHYaZbangrYPZiFvG6CNKOOzeaqL36DCaPG5914Ao0X1ltDJ_sNP3mJXFKDmLpbIxt3twHOSZB-AjJNjny7e1mKBQdYk3fwPfLa3DZSQw4aD/s1600/101-dalmatians.jpg" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXxAdwDo7qPImTyGKgLNiBz1snvDW3uy9rHYaZbangrYPZiFvG6CNKOOzeaqL36DCaPG5914Ao0X1ltDJ_sNP3mJXFKDmLpbIxt3twHOSZB-AjJNjny7e1mKBQdYk3fwPfLa3DZSQw4aD/s1600/101-dalmatians.jpg" style="cursor: -moz-zoom-in; height: 268px; width: 357px;" /><br />
<span style="font-size: 78%;">(Picture thanks to: http://cartoon-picture-collection.blogspot.com/2010/10/101-dalmatians-wallpapers.html) </span><br />
<img alt="" src="file:///Users/nataliebraun/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" /><img alt="" src="file:///Users/nataliebraun/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-2.png" />Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-90289147996421579772011-02-01T09:05:00.000-08:002011-02-01T09:24:04.562-08:00Books!<div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="http://www.rowayton.org/library/images/kid%20reading.gif" src="http://www.rowayton.org/library/images/kid%20reading.gif" /><br /></div>Last night, I was thinking about books that I love to read. In particular, ones that I can read over and over and enjoy every time. <br /><br />It became apparent to me, that besides books of poetry (like those of Hafiz or e.e. cummings), or books having to do with midwifery (like <span style="font-style: italic;">Spiritual Midwifery</span> by Ina May Gaskin or <span style="font-style: italic;">A Book for Midwives </span>by Susan Klein), books that I like to read cover-to-cover multiple times are illustrated.<br /><br />I think this train of thought is largely due to my day spent reading the same three children's books over and over again to a bunch of 1-4 year olds at the Waldorf day care I sometimes work for in Saratoga.<br /><br />So, in case you are the type who likes to collect great children's books, here is a short list of some of my favorites:<br /><br />1. Animalia, by Graeme Base<br />2. Big Mama Makes the World, by Phyllis Root and illustrated by Helen Oxenbury<br />3. Tuesday, by David Wiesner<br />4. Pigs, by Robert Munsch and <span class="ptBrand">Michael Martchenko<br />5. The Napping House, by Audrey Wood and illustrated by Don Wood<br /></span>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-56315299458026266602011-01-19T06:33:00.000-08:002011-01-19T07:21:55.510-08:00You Should See the IciclesIn a few days, I am moving out of a rather old big farmhouse and into a rather old tiny apartment about four hours away. There are many things that I anticipate missing about living here, most importantly the program that brought me here, which showed me how to be friends with eleven and sixty-five year olds, and my brilliant housemates. (youngfriendsinresidence.blogspot.com)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3krecnHfC1SaLFFPfvH-Eeh5vXcaZitiU-KibfGio3DKkaHgTYYves1f3_ZmQThF1SHx_MiOMue9m8uVvpKC2LoqCI7CC_F3S71yNCT22loKFdcOodHquiDb7ljlsx4qaDsOS9TVAe2f/s1600/woodshed.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3krecnHfC1SaLFFPfvH-Eeh5vXcaZitiU-KibfGio3DKkaHgTYYves1f3_ZmQThF1SHx_MiOMue9m8uVvpKC2LoqCI7CC_F3S71yNCT22loKFdcOodHquiDb7ljlsx4qaDsOS9TVAe2f/s320/woodshed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563911175318178226" border="0" /></a> Other things include the incredibly wild diversity of wallpaper (I have both thousands of pink strawberries and multi-colored trains just on one half of my room), the creek and backyard, being in close proximity to the town of Ithaca, NY, as well as all the beautiful gorges and our impressive collection of collage supplies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vqaaES1tV9BiZ4pbAkB3XfDBvuyEMgDeSDTjwZRdsxSsLunaJVwLD8z7XqCpQBQ7bmfBsfDos5tBTudRMc0sPXeBHVTnlnpxJsu7fT7VSudhSLemVpPN-cumdo1fzSOVINbTUrqwSJm5/s1600/creek.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vqaaES1tV9BiZ4pbAkB3XfDBvuyEMgDeSDTjwZRdsxSsLunaJVwLD8z7XqCpQBQ7bmfBsfDos5tBTudRMc0sPXeBHVTnlnpxJsu7fT7VSudhSLemVpPN-cumdo1fzSOVINbTUrqwSJm5/s320/creek.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563911162503458194" border="0" /></a>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-69120099355061849922011-01-14T10:21:00.000-08:002011-04-22T10:27:21.119-07:00Some Nifty ThingsSorry for the long absence!<br />
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In order to continue to share with you all some of the nifty and wonderful things passing through my life, I will attempt to begin a practice of updating regularly with short posts concerning small things of interest.<br />
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For example, today I would like to share with you <a href="http://www.unurth.com/">this awesome website</a> full of street art images.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">I discovered this site, and many other fabulous things through my friend and lovely housemate Helen's blog, <a href="http://sometimesblogged.blogspot.com/?ref=nf"><span style="font-style: italic;">Things I like</span></a>.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgApN4k-YtSL9ybZGvXzg2Sm-rS3VLapZjOjBRarnA-JCzcQyvqMlXwWYrbIYXsty4excwLjlg0mgg8kC9kzc0IP9cfTgIO2ZaU7qCvZ-kCZWfoHqvCs9pjHIqpckyg6-QpibqPGfO2lziH/s1600/Treehouse.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepO-vhQGcgpZuIM_76HJOSVO_cYnkeaiuxQkcCAdjtCuuz-uHvVAFrSN4bsz6wgZFAkLtUZiXr7hF7Epi1fsucBiDC9cRbA4hlpHxH7z_MPmuF8mEtphjfw70NZfYbtNmpH0m4g3nyUnM/s1600/Treehouse.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562574598664299314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepO-vhQGcgpZuIM_76HJOSVO_cYnkeaiuxQkcCAdjtCuuz-uHvVAFrSN4bsz6wgZFAkLtUZiXr7hF7Epi1fsucBiDC9cRbA4hlpHxH7z_MPmuF8mEtphjfw70NZfYbtNmpH0m4g3nyUnM/s320/Treehouse.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">p.s. My family went on a road trip down to North Carolina and back, and on the way, we stopped at this pretty amazing seven-story treehouse.<br />
</span></span></span></span></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-38621160948943307562010-04-10T19:31:00.000-07:002010-04-10T20:05:11.222-07:00Visiting Earlham CollegeMy housemates, Franklin and Anna, joined me on a trip down to Richmond, IN, this past week. I had been invited to come give a workshop on Permaculture (and more specifically, worm bins, or small-scale composting with worms) at Miller Farm, a college house located about eight minutes off campus on a little farm. <img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPBDuApX2-acqNvwgtdSvnLzqzeMZh0xXMcCVjbFbZqV5F37c6sMPdyIB2ILP_eqyxdI8iZ1TEjRrcvFPbeqFYYB5wpNdtYshkK-7_DPFUiMHcKQB7UXW69qo18N7lGVqI3KvYSPsYh86/s320/P4070045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458703755820781970" />The workshop went well, and it was really lovely to get a chance to see some of my old friends for a while and explore their exciting spaces. A couple of highlights were the hidden treehouse in the woods and the greenhouse built out of tires filled with rammed earth and covered in cob.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7RJuFxZnIOoBau2x7VjDCvj7le1RpCvByLPStOnOBmXLObkcKQzhn86zti2-Oku5angx_IfQyVZlEX4nJ9BD3cyvRdbvEp-QS5_NzOHkGJqpx8n4DahYnLXL_wUFIQ33DkSiPCfjS-rT/s1600/P4080015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsMiYyGVdAk-S2hPv1uV5moHu3hCN0CSMR2ihtboDVfVh5WHv8S47mivtXpNvJuPUjIO78RAqGRKjpWHc0r47W3EWY3h0gVrTOEmaJ6S-P872A87GP4Vz28ibAmYxNH6y2s_07AOjq2vz/s320/P4070028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458703758700222930" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7RJuFxZnIOoBau2x7VjDCvj7le1RpCvByLPStOnOBmXLObkcKQzhn86zti2-Oku5angx_IfQyVZlEX4nJ9BD3cyvRdbvEp-QS5_NzOHkGJqpx8n4DahYnLXL_wUFIQ33DkSiPCfjS-rT/s320/P4080015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458703773949427618" /></a>It was also really great to find, while going through the house's old scrapbooks, some pictures of my aunt Andi, my dad's first cousin Louis, and my current boss Chris DeRoller working on various farm projects. It turns out they were some of the first farm residents. <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQKf6p4XuJPe05srTBh7m7G35Gtm1mVEtKFeJVD4EmhifCiNWc0kyeAm9_SGRJtXoloACda45ErkskTtfJHM_2NpmHQIjSoj2tV0-0r7Rp5W0qI81i0TxZqnEhRVPTKptAJeK1UGirEDJ/s1600/P4070069.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQKf6p4XuJPe05srTBh7m7G35Gtm1mVEtKFeJVD4EmhifCiNWc0kyeAm9_SGRJtXoloACda45ErkskTtfJHM_2NpmHQIjSoj2tV0-0r7Rp5W0qI81i0TxZqnEhRVPTKptAJeK1UGirEDJ/s320/P4070069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458703767085184642" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-46781761486718396522010-04-10T19:02:00.000-07:002010-04-10T19:31:17.439-07:00...and we're off!The Young Friends and Residence Program is up and running! We are busy with a wide and wonderful variety of activities and adventures!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGRn1S1_PClfRLW39axihrGRfCTpKC2GoQgP9f-feEID-4Dicfx8RYGsRlMUTpnBUBjMFjdVbDYn7shVFQsCE70vOJ7ZCk6PVyTQ18fPsmDCOszWt34v_4pbDY-GAZDDDMJH0MGelCP_P/s1600/P3120292.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGRn1S1_PClfRLW39axihrGRfCTpKC2GoQgP9f-feEID-4Dicfx8RYGsRlMUTpnBUBjMFjdVbDYn7shVFQsCE70vOJ7ZCk6PVyTQ18fPsmDCOszWt34v_4pbDY-GAZDDDMJH0MGelCP_P/s320/P3120292.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458695741256395858" /></a>Facilitating Youth Retreats at Perry City Meetinghouse has been one of my bigger projects these past couple of months. The attenders have been kids from the Farmington-Scipio region of New York Yearly Meeting, most of whom are between the ages of 11 and 14.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihf0i3jfBLViVNNimPOPOKLXVKd1EXUeiXDGqrW_dZue6c4p9JxOU_dB70Yo2D2C8DN01At8uGEfAeFaqpedcHBGemZyJYT8ZpO03GOIqFl6Fr42Zo3nEwd3uZYEB94ePVCny9bstthx_-/s1600/P2190074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihf0i3jfBLViVNNimPOPOKLXVKd1EXUeiXDGqrW_dZue6c4p9JxOU_dB70Yo2D2C8DN01At8uGEfAeFaqpedcHBGemZyJYT8ZpO03GOIqFl6Fr42Zo3nEwd3uZYEB94ePVCny9bstthx_-/s320/P2190074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458695725952357250" /></a>Along with youth program retreats, we have also hosted a couple Circle of Young Friend retreats (for folks between the ages of 18 and 35) at the Beloved Community House in Newfield, NY. Young Adult Friends have also come out to be Adult Presences at our youth retreats, which is a whole lot of fun for everyone involved. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj196QPsSDOjVv1lB-zw5kqIsXY5PuYY86PeW0q8sgvXHUXq3q5hHmIcrzVLwm956wlX97zZHbk5FmyMsen39DwfILqrVtmVP1KmrdHQauEW7Zg0hOM_O67NHWLSE4KCGaDQBcWJ0-p-VqF/s1600/P1080074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj196QPsSDOjVv1lB-zw5kqIsXY5PuYY86PeW0q8sgvXHUXq3q5hHmIcrzVLwm956wlX97zZHbk5FmyMsen39DwfILqrVtmVP1KmrdHQauEW7Zg0hOM_O67NHWLSE4KCGaDQBcWJ0-p-VqF/s320/P1080074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458695722691835858" /></a>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-6153087534063829882010-01-28T14:16:00.000-08:002010-01-28T14:25:35.550-08:00My Latest Adventure!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFRiQQ9fNJRKBPVbx7a7nvjz8L-ub5DJJGBKFMOoeFRQLGfKKj9fYZmgNrrYs36mo0vXUu3azINUQttywtdWOq2iDvdAeJI0Chl6JTXK24-jgZ7P65cpw9KmryGtF11jqc7CoV20C7p3O/s1600-h/P1010057.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFRiQQ9fNJRKBPVbx7a7nvjz8L-ub5DJJGBKFMOoeFRQLGfKKj9fYZmgNrrYs36mo0vXUu3azINUQttywtdWOq2iDvdAeJI0Chl6JTXK24-jgZ7P65cpw9KmryGtF11jqc7CoV20C7p3O/s320/P1010057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431919510536527378" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">After arriving home from Ecuador on New Years, I have begun to settle into my new space in Newfield, NY (near Ithaca) at the Beloved Community House. Here, I have come to be a Young Friend in Residence Intern, running youth retreats, doing community outreach and personal inreach, and actively participating as a member of this small intentional community.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please check out our blog to learn more at: http://youngfriendsinresidence.blogspot.com/</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBM9GkO0VUDk8nRIh1KrjOMEVloxD5QjnTrkL45lkPDOkb3MHDXTNzJr7EleQLvZHO4s89XDzwSaAr11Ql_43jK3vt4B1v3cPkif5YAXUq6D-rWIp4xBMHmM6oji9_kT98v-O1pn6hQVrV/s320/P1110096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431919505187625458" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Franklin Crump (on the left in my coat) and Anna Obermayer</div><div style="text-align: center;">are my (on the right in Franklin's coat) fellow interns, </div><div style="text-align: center;">and wonderful people.</div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-52327652561405759112009-12-26T11:05:00.000-08:002009-12-26T11:50:00.023-08:00The Northern Beaches of Ecuador<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN4xFpYX7mBmwvShwcAUEUlRrQPTTVSzW4R170TXW7VjkF1KNzKtY7GNYtoWXgSjBe67R1dvf3BAa6ooIWp3M88-F33YuvG4sPGia1w8RIIM2UFS1fmSdDX2Zl-47IX5YwTffNJAgj7rU/s320/PC170062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419628162576473282" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I spent the last two weeks busing between some of the northern beaches of Ecuador and Quito. The first week, Aaron and I spent at the beach Atacames. It was beautiful with medium-sized waves, friendly people, lots of fresh fish and shrimp to eat, and artisan stalls.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRULJ7vvI69QK6KhCSoOTol1Te_u2oSQ3SWb7o5sDIcwbZ7hyphenhyphenD0ZvyYPL2t0ytXQItjZnQ-aSCgWN93SDkhuKGEYodvF2tS0NOA_fvlGRbDPHi30NvfzUUGpSOdTzP9kqRjc68za4tTX8P/s320/PC170064.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419624558876365394" />There were also many stray dogs, including one (we named Sandy) who followed us around for an entire afternoon. Stray dogs are as common here as squirrels are in the United States, though (perhaps due to my now taller height) it seems there are fewer now than there were when I came as a child.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7kItSOs4S-O_ba8Ye_1R2OpYDyCSmpcwW_IbZaJvJ4BNUgoPUGp9yNeQh1j3c84qNCjOxCgceAYVFvcVHLgBao7jEdaFk3AR6YCyR2hcEg14WDwTA73TtvykgAEVxcAN5h0lPTkAmqgF/s320/PC160053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419624541697743362" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>We took a walk to one end of the beach where a fresh water river had its delta, and found a field of trash. Plastic bottles, shoes, styrofoam, plastic bags, building materials, old clothes, fishing line, and glass seemed to be the most common artifacts. Walking along barefoot, we opted to start back toward the cleaner beach when we looked down and saw an old syringe half-burried in the sand. Though we walked away, the trash field was heavily populated by birds, crabs, and where it spilled into the water, small fish were congregated.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLcOR3HU3d9Q4HpeigJb0xx6xqEVqgXt2vIdFuZD2i_C5Q38Bhyphenhyphenopj_M9-cAXl0ugq0igxTiu2JEoX4aFWW0MiXX3d-QQ9Bt5IN4bZCD8xLrQrGWaHGr2teRQ3vWCjEA2fNQTNfOyhkaI/s320/PC160050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419624537746762226" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>We took the bus back to Quito, saw Malaika briefly, and Aaron got on a plane back to the States. The following morning, I got back on the bus and took it back to Atacames, where I discovered that the buses to Mompiche beach stop running after 5pm. Atacames, like most of the country, experiences daily power-outages due to the country-wide drought, and so I waited in a quickly darkening town for my parents to make the drive to pick me up. Driving in the dark in Ecuador is especially harrowing due to large potholes, unmarked speed bumps, and a general lack of street lights, coupled with other crazy drivers and the tendancy for most trucks to have one or more non-functional head- and/or break lights. I was thankful to finally meet my family and find them all in one piece.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFviGlrMZP0ExxAl7fFKoJsZvPjCjBImWcEinSba66Qe7aWHxX4gECGhPTyYuT59_8O9Hm0ZcvwB9vp7v6aoQqpLctW2Ml-pAlHFl7VR7EYRQcIFQylTAXwV5pEOMwCQUoJBfrLTbcuedM/s1600-h/PC220042.JPG"></a></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xrNVYJrP5EF_eC8xDV1oYOsXHmSn-hs8sGni8Gw8Jl6n9brtnXzVKVbCf9kkhY8k46woMyCSmIsx5yr3Fs01SXzajZaPnbL-PAYCjSaJgiJpEpXk2a3xWyblc0uGJIzab6LX6vFqBCO3/s320/PC220025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419631444142047394" /><div>At Mompiche, the waves were awesome for body-surfing, and the beach was less touristy. We took a boat ride around the edge of the cove and out to a newly-formed island covered in sand dollars (which here they call sea stars because of the perfect stars in their middles and which have a "nursery" right inside the bend of the island) and little red crabs... </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFviGlrMZP0ExxAl7fFKoJsZvPjCjBImWcEinSba66Qe7aWHxX4gECGhPTyYuT59_8O9Hm0ZcvwB9vp7v6aoQqpLctW2Ml-pAlHFl7VR7EYRQcIFQylTAXwV5pEOMwCQUoJBfrLTbcuedM/s1600-h/PC220042.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFviGlrMZP0ExxAl7fFKoJsZvPjCjBImWcEinSba66Qe7aWHxX4gECGhPTyYuT59_8O9Hm0ZcvwB9vp7v6aoQqpLctW2Ml-pAlHFl7VR7EYRQcIFQylTAXwV5pEOMwCQUoJBfrLTbcuedM/s320/PC220042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419625698354977202" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>...as well as young mangrove trees, which are part-creaters of the island. Some of local food and profit comes from the conch shells which are collected from the muddy roots of these cool trees. The trees also support a wide-variety of birds and insects, and their steady destruction in Ecuador (and other parts of the world) due to shrimp farming and other commercial enterprises, is threatening the biodiversity and health of the coastal area. <br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvWfkSKfcBM8E3wiH_ycnLBIQfusJxzCTifL7FQVbMvuLRnAtUdkPM9bqA9tyRHr2ZBqNvhhSIwl4X_CKkPjcQDgGVoWuEIbViMee1NpJF_NSajS8mDrxiuIfSWYPyISS5G2WUru2oWLV/s320/PC220019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419625687561490482" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-48487923486004504432009-12-13T10:10:00.000-08:002009-12-13T13:19:48.095-08:00What is south of Quito?<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I apologize in advance for the length of this post, but stick with it - there are lots of pictures!</span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>My friend Malaika arrived nearly a month ago, and after spending only a couple days adjusting to the altitude, came with me on a visit to the little CSA in La Merced. We arrived in the late morning after a harrowing adventure (full of circles and closed roads) through Quito's sprawling expanses. We were immediately put to work helping B</div><div>en (of the couple that was taking care of the farm while the owners were in Holland) use an "A" Frame to find level and hand hoe beds on contour in their new upper field. It was hard work, but nice to be in the dirt again. Kristy (the other half of the couple) came back midway through that process, and after lunch we worked with her doing some weeding and bed-maintenance in the lower vegetable gardens. (Malaika weeding below)</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2gpLu0vBFgtOhE8pyqoa5SFNmOQCFAD9v5ycLPBUbGKnTBdKekdkp-mzN5JocMA3adfLWHxcTxzbk7Rv9Gn2xsq6cplB17kq5kj2ZDJzTa65XxmPaOQ4IlvJK1i5B-rr9WZ8ENmYu6G8/s320/PB050033.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414824178178406898" /></div><div>The cow woke us up early, and we got up and dressed to find it a beautiful sunny day. Out the window of the house we were staying in, we had a gorgeous view of Cotopaxi, and the air was cool and clear - a nice break from the almost visibly grey air of the city.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9qp79tekrmJUDm-6_DBQKsDSzqZXLtVzHKEzLzcb4JKVPNQRBylgt9fWcnLjwb9eENa7vI3mQZ1AXZ9GA1iPTAZqwmr78vz9b7J1d2wM2Dw5UM5KfzxwTOMa0Hc5qsBUGpAwoBKarFjT/s1600-h/PB040022.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9qp79tekrmJUDm-6_DBQKsDSzqZXLtVzHKEzLzcb4JKVPNQRBylgt9fWcnLjwb9eENa7vI3mQZ1AXZ9GA1iPTAZqwmr78vz9b7J1d2wM2Dw5UM5KfzxwTOMa0Hc5qsBUGpAwoBKarFjT/s320/PB040022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414821099186540546" /></a>Below: Malaika (on the left) and Kristy (on the right) getting ready for the morning.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cwgiodSFyR9Ih5Tf8mwbq4nWKLyWCgW5LHzMtGob9eQ51Aki_DxTPn6PmlHXNiUaR3i0zcvA8mYTcwo1mqsS7HJfPAo7e5v9tcyirTYrAam1p9SRS-Pn4p9rQa3-9Do0jNo_raocvh7U/s1600-h/PB040028.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cwgiodSFyR9Ih5Tf8mwbq4nWKLyWCgW5LHzMtGob9eQ51Aki_DxTPn6PmlHXNiUaR3i0zcvA8mYTcwo1mqsS7HJfPAo7e5v9tcyirTYrAam1p9SRS-Pn4p9rQa3-9Do0jNo_raocvh7U/s320/PB040028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414821093618253746" /></a>We weeded again most of the morning, enjoying the time in the sun and the cute baby plants. The lower vegetable gardens are semi-terraced on a slope, and as you can vaguely see in the picture below where I'm weeding, they are using drip-lines for irrigation here. At this time, the rains still were only coming hesitantly, and water was becoming scarce. The farm has several different water collection set-ups (including water tanks made of tires cemented together in a cylinder and a giant swimming-pool-esque collection hole,) is on a slope, and located right on the edge of a ravine with an all-year-round stream at the bottom, so it is generally a little better off than others. Other cool things of note on this farm are the heavily producing bee hives, composting toilets, and grandmother named Carmencita who is both a wealth of knowledge and hilarious. <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5I4cDyZ57Nkr4g_KTITD3zS8vb4YJj0TZ4-Nktgp2sKmIXp7aiArtXAC6CmXodJK1FcCkNqxhOuXZ_rTzFCT-KGz8UdjSpzPK72SqA8yeipXGWmyuqbnI1ogJSPasGBxCRG9I9Iw97B3Y/s1600-h/PB050036.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5I4cDyZ57Nkr4g_KTITD3zS8vb4YJj0TZ4-Nktgp2sKmIXp7aiArtXAC6CmXodJK1FcCkNqxhOuXZ_rTzFCT-KGz8UdjSpzPK72SqA8yeipXGWmyuqbnI1ogJSPasGBxCRG9I9Iw97B3Y/s320/PB050036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414819840639400434" /></a>Below: I just wanted to include this picture of a pig cave. This is the home of the mother of Fernando (one of the workers on the CSA), and along with this awesome space she's created to give her pig shade, she is also farming on an incredible slope and cultivating some of the fastest-growing corn I've seen here.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkK_6Hk3rTDFwJomAUjufrwFB6g694BXWHEPjH8KzjKPo3igLHKkEC3zzbikdDJIbc6WQ2TpvxUe-CI0R5WJPyqIUfUc9D4hNkEsf8NVJ0PYyuoqkmmMUnmq0rgMJT3VP_JSuHDUbnIQI/s1600-h/PB050040.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkK_6Hk3rTDFwJomAUjufrwFB6g694BXWHEPjH8KzjKPo3igLHKkEC3zzbikdDJIbc6WQ2TpvxUe-CI0R5WJPyqIUfUc9D4hNkEsf8NVJ0PYyuoqkmmMUnmq0rgMJT3VP_JSuHDUbnIQI/s320/PB050040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414819834307032642" /></a>Below: this is a picture of the central square of La Merced. It is a one stoplight town, but every town here - almost no matter the size - has a central square and an impressive little church.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk59MiNhyphenhyphen_-KZcShsVlqCoxMnWsdS35BM_LaGie4n0ZSZVXbXCE77ODo60dzXIGdAFbrGDgTvr2CekDGH7hEJ0GnjhR1Y4CLj25_kiZ7tM3Tk4FeQMyLXZMyWUAwy9aVijSMPOUdxq7ohs/s1600-h/PB050041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk59MiNhyphenhyphen_-KZcShsVlqCoxMnWsdS35BM_LaGie4n0ZSZVXbXCE77ODo60dzXIGdAFbrGDgTvr2CekDGH7hEJ0GnjhR1Y4CLj25_kiZ7tM3Tk4FeQMyLXZMyWUAwy9aVijSMPOUdxq7ohs/s320/PB050041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414819831965648418" /></a>After our adventure to the farm in La Merced, Malaika and I went looking for another one in a place called Palugo. Though we weren't successful that time, we did end up on a road to some wonderful hot springs in Papallacta, and caught some beautiful views on the way (below).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClNjTUSlNy0w509bS7SFuAqPAbr5YR9h7uDq0YuJaMZGS2j4-p9AFQTEUxnaLtqLkaD4UEvCebzAJUUm-m14FIFHjMLVD45GPeQmeex9UFqLqXINVDZLYf_ey3M0n4vBnH7o-F4Jtg-tc/s1600-h/PB050042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClNjTUSlNy0w509bS7SFuAqPAbr5YR9h7uDq0YuJaMZGS2j4-p9AFQTEUxnaLtqLkaD4UEvCebzAJUUm-m14FIFHjMLVD45GPeQmeex9UFqLqXINVDZLYf_ey3M0n4vBnH7o-F4Jtg-tc/s320/PB050042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414819820913376578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBppIvr-egP7N7M8MKA9QXbiewpSw8jvxOrzC7nSffnxJt9BaeSpMlKxseu3k2E9HKquyjAXx0nyTLOJYvB72ho4FZ2wrhPT2B9am0Fitf0eO2xIluQ0jm4RS0GGdhpXAjyemxfAMcE3Vm/s1600-h/PB050051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBppIvr-egP7N7M8MKA9QXbiewpSw8jvxOrzC7nSffnxJt9BaeSpMlKxseu3k2E9HKquyjAXx0nyTLOJYvB72ho4FZ2wrhPT2B9am0Fitf0eO2xIluQ0jm4RS0GGdhpXAjyemxfAMcE3Vm/s320/PB050051.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414819816602462098" /></a>And, on the way home to Quito, saw the mountain one last time. Since then the rainy season has asserted itself a little more heavily and clouds hang full and low most of the time, blocking my treasured mountain views.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgse87j0dTImV4fBcGAohz2j5IlyXqtg6Q-d5kfZzQ8yEPzZZ-nGg4laKfy4GA72XUhu5Ni4HPMp5wzx8gYQ9s5Q9Y7zksnASTnr9nlW0nHglIdkdUlT372tviZmApk70LnaSW2IaZSLgnJ/s1600-h/PB050052.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgse87j0dTImV4fBcGAohz2j5IlyXqtg6Q-d5kfZzQ8yEPzZZ-nGg4laKfy4GA72XUhu5Ni4HPMp5wzx8gYQ9s5Q9Y7zksnASTnr9nlW0nHglIdkdUlT372tviZmApk70LnaSW2IaZSLgnJ/s320/PB050052.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414818294314893282" /></a>Back home in Quito, Malaika, my brother Caleb, and I went out to the Iñaquito market to go vegetable shopping. We bought the weeks worth for less than ten dollars, and carried heavy bags home, only squishing one avocado on a large bunch of bananas.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA9xqt3WetTstAYD8jdpnMqMUVHVPV7Zz2mcVi6j7KCSmwiz6UFGJBHGFCP1khMfrlUGuH8TanXKjWbN2HuOBV9rnYyA8o1yFFRXB9-cXRCpmaocyhIN8HsJWMPOspyf8sqz-04kIauSB/s1600-h/PB070058.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA9xqt3WetTstAYD8jdpnMqMUVHVPV7Zz2mcVi6j7KCSmwiz6UFGJBHGFCP1khMfrlUGuH8TanXKjWbN2HuOBV9rnYyA8o1yFFRXB9-cXRCpmaocyhIN8HsJWMPOspyf8sqz-04kIauSB/s320/PB070058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414818282853579762" /></a>Aaron arrived soon after and after a long sleep was ready for adventure as well. He, Malaika, and I packed backpacks, snacks, a tent, and an ipod, borrowed my grandparent's little blue car, and took off heading south.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrnJx-42G0g2dHSiyDh4FFDzhZLuo52XxZKt58tCJZiHNChrbnDWhR4IJ-MCGJTv32XzCJ18D0Hj1CjfegOhSRsha020tKWb4SNlFPuj1GSAoHYOhFVhhMp20NcW-TbCLk3i0yXt2xEib/s1600-h/PB280077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrnJx-42G0g2dHSiyDh4FFDzhZLuo52XxZKt58tCJZiHNChrbnDWhR4IJ-MCGJTv32XzCJ18D0Hj1CjfegOhSRsha020tKWb4SNlFPuj1GSAoHYOhFVhhMp20NcW-TbCLk3i0yXt2xEib/s320/PB280077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414818278933538642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdwVQnGtmfTzOuS-IaJ5v6NoNCdaKAlvh78tHDZ4PKzp6oaV6w5Tz-46TQEc5ZYYG0oIGMarZHBA5E6xZnOuZmByXNI-3EdiY3fioICBfiqXw0mqac-8zuLSstFvOzc1C9RjgxVLfYiLl/s1600-h/PB280079.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPdwVQnGtmfTzOuS-IaJ5v6NoNCdaKAlvh78tHDZ4PKzp6oaV6w5Tz-46TQEc5ZYYG0oIGMarZHBA5E6xZnOuZmByXNI-3EdiY3fioICBfiqXw0mqac-8zuLSstFvOzc1C9RjgxVLfYiLl/s320/PB280079.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414818274412863586" /></a>Though the skies were grey, the ground was turning greener and we were fortunate to see some really spectacular valleys and lush farmland. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8cr6Bdd7CkBDwnZDUxjhaUsMhIvm6OMrB0qNyaKfIr2I2j7xICJhn9TPoOsF5QzeHT9Asw-BrPOVSJFroX3BjuScKori2sEbUQnNJCQ7ZP-8PSj9lWUXMJZIQUqbeaf4SbxVO30f9KjL/s1600-h/PB280081.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8cr6Bdd7CkBDwnZDUxjhaUsMhIvm6OMrB0qNyaKfIr2I2j7xICJhn9TPoOsF5QzeHT9Asw-BrPOVSJFroX3BjuScKori2sEbUQnNJCQ7ZP-8PSj9lWUXMJZIQUqbeaf4SbxVO30f9KjL/s320/PB280081.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414814982228545346" /></a>Though our maps were poor, and our guide from several years before, we found our way from town to town, admiring old architecture...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEccaX9Bc2LRGsSH34A49fMbNFxgTHHOkcCA4WWz2E4JpsEZ7O8DnQzqNCryb-akXQnApSJnpGrreuYR5ISWBTp7_p8IQctapcxIcVCIbuVeQKSz8qgLk8b8K2txBLj8LkZne3XpGS5jb0/s1600-h/PB300099.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEccaX9Bc2LRGsSH34A49fMbNFxgTHHOkcCA4WWz2E4JpsEZ7O8DnQzqNCryb-akXQnApSJnpGrreuYR5ISWBTp7_p8IQctapcxIcVCIbuVeQKSz8qgLk8b8K2txBLj8LkZne3XpGS5jb0/s320/PB300099.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414814971819959858" /></a>narrow cobblestoned busy streets...<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiY176efwaFmHkweUsyVsEupVFgrCS_i_KF-9v9X3b1lb28dowBamFZ3SwgAn5T8vShqzYXhZkbA17O6cygjI5FbA_RNzqDuHkrZaYrqBfyrYc3Pglhk1jdbqbRgVu37go4DfKE7dx425/s320/PB300106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414798189353590402" /><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlnQCHn4HT-4ETsROJ-bS5OJKkkZSEs6We93JhOHlr0KHxzR-kohyphenhyphenHGUq-VCSqM-cuJEABTA1flwK_JNpTvVelruGRBvRZKrdISzvwwfp_W7sdFrD8GkgS-4VdaA6CLUp7OkdTofksfN1G/s320/PB300107.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414798180861814482" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJyl5UFTQj8N1zJOLEf43hxoWi8FYcguWS598QqtWs8qKpKa8AjN0t4k3q6hAwMHcq3Rq4yNmYMi71CZ5VmOEougwi0I2Dv9IK_grk1kaKe-cX2jgIytJvM_tHFZB7Y9O5I4tOE3FIrHx/s320/PB300108.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414798176941838898" />interesting and creative nativity scenes...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnb1Q_61nc9o5WL5UyffpalfIy-xTTQM_RctU8Pb94_Np_lP2syCqaYtMTphf0fvZmayPiGwzE3NWDP55vQCp_G7l15FiV7NjUjzmVeoIVfpig-IuL_pw8B1mggLTkXofrzK8yc-J-gPM/s1600-h/PB300102.JPG"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnb1Q_61nc9o5WL5UyffpalfIy-xTTQM_RctU8Pb94_Np_lP2syCqaYtMTphf0fvZmayPiGwzE3NWDP55vQCp_G7l15FiV7NjUjzmVeoIVfpig-IuL_pw8B1mggLTkXofrzK8yc-J-gPM/s1600-h/PB300102.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnb1Q_61nc9o5WL5UyffpalfIy-xTTQM_RctU8Pb94_Np_lP2syCqaYtMTphf0fvZmayPiGwzE3NWDP55vQCp_G7l15FiV7NjUjzmVeoIVfpig-IuL_pw8B1mggLTkXofrzK8yc-J-gPM/s320/PB300102.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414814971008102226" /></a>...and the incredible strength of friendliness of the people.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsAJ9KV-0K7UDru3gD1QJdQZCtWpF9PrlgcBP1XGSBtyRFolppQe3upTVeEaUq_sqFmM8eDpzs6DA-1lDsFhCvmsdHx9wchqUulfhdMKy1asEQAPMHVxwHOA72QFuOdKTJGxxUIIGIxi7/s1600-h/PB300115.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsAJ9KV-0K7UDru3gD1QJdQZCtWpF9PrlgcBP1XGSBtyRFolppQe3upTVeEaUq_sqFmM8eDpzs6DA-1lDsFhCvmsdHx9wchqUulfhdMKy1asEQAPMHVxwHOA72QFuOdKTJGxxUIIGIxi7/s320/PB300115.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414794778228698850" /></a>In between towns and cities we found ourselves driving through incredible and diverse landscapes, from deep red soil to acacia trees to sugar cane and palm trees. Though our car was thankful for the smooth roads, the harsh slices into the surroundings to create them were sad to see. Erosion and loss of property are only two of the many problems caused by the maintenance of such nice roads. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_DI93y3lozeyR8mEH5XDOmkLxYNNLQPdmw_brxQVQcZBBNOYGgNKpnGLuZIegpSwDjLyQYHL3VM_8es8CIbYGN9hoXIbm8Y__F8a_JL8BybefR7RNX3K1-HEgvOLZMk88_xi8spzW9KJx/s1600-h/PC010120.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_DI93y3lozeyR8mEH5XDOmkLxYNNLQPdmw_brxQVQcZBBNOYGgNKpnGLuZIegpSwDjLyQYHL3VM_8es8CIbYGN9hoXIbm8Y__F8a_JL8BybefR7RNX3K1-HEgvOLZMk88_xi8spzW9KJx/s320/PC010120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414794775848950098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqpAxWAGxQWMpocKtbcX05MHCkkJ_Re4dGCUA3UtcJrgTIyyhvfJkoCVQPBOvQkyCS-yGJyr5avenLydVaQkCIwZHDTWPv-pIy5iWtOtda7rohFjZiEOGHNwY0kFZ0JhmaQUJwC6-Rmg8/s1600-h/PC010125.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqpAxWAGxQWMpocKtbcX05MHCkkJ_Re4dGCUA3UtcJrgTIyyhvfJkoCVQPBOvQkyCS-yGJyr5avenLydVaQkCIwZHDTWPv-pIy5iWtOtda7rohFjZiEOGHNwY0kFZ0JhmaQUJwC6-Rmg8/s320/PC010125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414794767445129778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSccFhdOvgiqy9zXNRtPAGmelo8Kff82249n8pXwDhcZRjBulcr-7-JaMVmmI-1NXjGfxJeVg1jqKFzEEDrnJwS4mqSiOFDlzi5nWcfbBB3MD-Zi3kPSuyCVLV3IwZHRx58Au8Cp6-0WnB/s1600-h/PC010132.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSccFhdOvgiqy9zXNRtPAGmelo8Kff82249n8pXwDhcZRjBulcr-7-JaMVmmI-1NXjGfxJeVg1jqKFzEEDrnJwS4mqSiOFDlzi5nWcfbBB3MD-Zi3kPSuyCVLV3IwZHRx58Au8Cp6-0WnB/s320/PC010132.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414794760856889538" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zvwtpM2LBBqlZKrF111_fVUytpPdIHZlr3Sct8J4ugvIGM18fnI9aiT2BHOQgWNXd_Hyk9WB2XJNCl7W2aZSiQNrkKGTAwibTjA1Xz8vyq_k4o3ZdHB060zUQWhOPojOgGClMhuLLZHu/s1600-h/PC020141.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zvwtpM2LBBqlZKrF111_fVUytpPdIHZlr3Sct8J4ugvIGM18fnI9aiT2BHOQgWNXd_Hyk9WB2XJNCl7W2aZSiQNrkKGTAwibTjA1Xz8vyq_k4o3ZdHB060zUQWhOPojOgGClMhuLLZHu/s320/PC020141.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414792911119211746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji84JM57Z-mY8mA1apF9T0W300QN9PesCwqH1ioMNRRJClyzEIFtMgkPGiU-TgO3b9VZJeQUzYlHm2GUfTkLrrrnUcek57jQQ1ZIazPhysLPmO8Fd3j2MpJglvjvpe_U4visAD7Fzsy2hw/s1600-h/PC020148.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji84JM57Z-mY8mA1apF9T0W300QN9PesCwqH1ioMNRRJClyzEIFtMgkPGiU-TgO3b9VZJeQUzYlHm2GUfTkLrrrnUcek57jQQ1ZIazPhysLPmO8Fd3j2MpJglvjvpe_U4visAD7Fzsy2hw/s320/PC020148.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414792899420990178" /></a>We drove south nearly all the way to Peru and then turned up and west to follow the Ruta del Sol (Route of the Sun) up the coast and eventually eastward and home to Quito. We stayed the night in the beach city of Salinas, enjoying the refreshing salt water and sand, but not so much the high rises. Fortunately, we have been traveling in the off season, so there were fairly few tourists and plenty of places to stay - though most not in our price range. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2Z2NB43HGs31nJgol_lplvZOgStm-UPasuTL1vLH0dFwLVfEhZ6FyHyu4sm_IEAQ0uk8cTWZ6J3IcK1bJLI-w5nWtUTKpY7AiV7T-g_PA07oaJK9UYWkFNztkbtoR8ay31hqr17qopzv/s1600-h/PC040165.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2Z2NB43HGs31nJgol_lplvZOgStm-UPasuTL1vLH0dFwLVfEhZ6FyHyu4sm_IEAQ0uk8cTWZ6J3IcK1bJLI-w5nWtUTKpY7AiV7T-g_PA07oaJK9UYWkFNztkbtoR8ay31hqr17qopzv/s320/PC040165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414787334586548514" /></a>Below: I wanted to include a photo of just one of the many alternative types of transportation one can find on the beach. Beach towns often have one road (I guess in the States we call them "boardwalks?") and here you can often find everything from bicycle-powered rickshaws, to motorcycle-powered baby taxis, to small pedal-powered cars like these.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwZUYnPAVDN1JlGj5kFMhKVB76mMRIFIhTIqacE_B2EzwSLXQkTr8F_IOfpT-nnTPqY5mFdCBizHySKedR_jiJsYokLO0o3FfytzC090tQtKPczRUrOw4ZPC-yk89nYrxg9i81yQohM6t/s1600-h/PC040170.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwZUYnPAVDN1JlGj5kFMhKVB76mMRIFIhTIqacE_B2EzwSLXQkTr8F_IOfpT-nnTPqY5mFdCBizHySKedR_jiJsYokLO0o3FfytzC090tQtKPczRUrOw4ZPC-yk89nYrxg9i81yQohM6t/s320/PC040170.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414787331156460050" /></a>Though the roads were not as nice on the way up, the views of the ocean and the quickly and often changing landscapes made it my favorite part of the trip. Our poor car at this point was beginning to express its distress though, so we opted to make our way home as quickly as possible.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKq0S_0OvdTGYhvndOMTyChIYjPqLEuOsLDGJKosqti9S7Loe6XC0r4jUe0FonzajqdANsnhRotLTkHIecYOwJxuUzwFA5lTLH5_X6ArI5_UT_YGyjMPxzocUvrW5zCRNKgR3RhueSKDL/s320/PC050176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414787323215658898" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Our biggest problem turned out to be our tire, though thankfully we only lost one, we really lost it. The tire-guys we later went to were impressed, turns out it's not easy to take the tread off your tire quite like we did, while also managing to keep it full of air. <br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gWeIi291HhVX6M23FuuBWqIZYaXutI5KOlAnUDD4sZAaVCGSI6jDJ07EJnHPXGWErdmN-DMT_ksITqNVRW6NtcdYrJBVZtrDEfsAvAMst7xaoxsOHaMhiYW8PY0tyV49EROSqL6c4ewa/s320/PC050184.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414785611757261250" /><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqstDOMkSVR1qsjnzsyt560eiOhc-cYSA8uNuxhPEtpZtRLERZYRiVytKhR5D0QFYX502OXrFD2PMv5KEnnMN2YnK7kKKnvhZ3oAT4eFB5qsj2AjUTEonExq7CaPJRZG_yZ1Nao5rxGFok/s320/PC050173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414787327517931442" />In between beach views, scrub lands, marshes, and banana plantations, there were what are called "dry forests" including some really amazing green trees with buttressed roots of impressive heights and widths. Outside the jungle, I haven't seen anything like them here.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75bOqyWe5mdEC47BTK-S-T4b0D7AFEi-pkqpq_3Qu8p-87LJFM7N4LLAi3w0YgB-XetMYzw07Ou5NcOzuo06lrwc-kbka5z1c25SD08glfqsc-9ZsMnfsPQiDNzZ02v7aSe7I8OcfcQox/s1600-h/PC050177.JPG"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75bOqyWe5mdEC47BTK-S-T4b0D7AFEi-pkqpq_3Qu8p-87LJFM7N4LLAi3w0YgB-XetMYzw07Ou5NcOzuo06lrwc-kbka5z1c25SD08glfqsc-9ZsMnfsPQiDNzZ02v7aSe7I8OcfcQox/s1600-h/PC050177.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75bOqyWe5mdEC47BTK-S-T4b0D7AFEi-pkqpq_3Qu8p-87LJFM7N4LLAi3w0YgB-XetMYzw07Ou5NcOzuo06lrwc-kbka5z1c25SD08glfqsc-9ZsMnfsPQiDNzZ02v7aSe7I8OcfcQox/s320/PC050177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414787312828394738" /></a><br />Unfortunately, we also saw expanses of incredibly dry land. Though in Quito the rainy season may be making an appearance, it seems as though a lot of the country has not been so lucky. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Jgw2vuuG4IzS5AJItROWGKMhu1Gt0w-la1fTbKiiu1pUA3lyPoTkajk8RJWqRaTXvn7d59_P44rL2Tse2FSFk-y5DdBxJ9WtxvPwapAkybVHIBOE73QD9BU8ucwwvD19ACNNvb4Ln8Hl/s1600-h/PC050179.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Jgw2vuuG4IzS5AJItROWGKMhu1Gt0w-la1fTbKiiu1pUA3lyPoTkajk8RJWqRaTXvn7d59_P44rL2Tse2FSFk-y5DdBxJ9WtxvPwapAkybVHIBOE73QD9BU8ucwwvD19ACNNvb4Ln8Hl/s320/PC050179.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414785617636996178" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-25601099201180764802009-11-16T12:31:00.000-08:002009-11-16T13:37:50.837-08:00Cuenca<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Thursday evening, my family piled into the car and drove from Quito south to Riobamba. It was cloudy on that ride, and it was as if we were in any other part of the world, one would have no idea that some of the biggest mountains in the world loomed above us only miles away.<br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzZPX7b_q7_FjLNLBrGYT_hs5VgqUllXXmJLFiaXACguZMoPac6J9YSn27vd304GOFPzeGmB6om3MOjAJVZDhzuhyphenhyphenKDOB0BuwJkvVkgSAw7qnqWN8WHgm12BQEG5DFJ9uF6v_g1BG_z7m/s320/PA280013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404803347537266434" />We woke up early and drove all morning down to Cuenca. The day was clear and warm, and the views enormous. Patchwork hill after town-dotted valley led us along their curved roads the whole way, and we were fortunate to arrive in the city with some daylight left.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKSEI1nix-u6jaCGIQSih_m3mSh2bOda7fTB-X1xf6Jn13_-vO4LMMYwzAkFjkvDy8du1neiKXS3TJeQt5xvQqBnBUzeiVLVQu_UK5Bbm1EcX4DiNDG8408DkXCONnSG_oHZWceJvwEVw/s320/PA280063.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404804410630879858" />After a stint to see about extending our visas, we tucked our things away in our beautiful old hostel, and went exploring. I especially enjoyed the old architecture; the brick and adobe buildings with pealing or weathered paint leaning in slightly over the narrow cobblestone roads were just what I love the most about old towns.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIg9baI1oqr6Vok2PwBV0xWdwt6jaUywM2dulukdfueT_CvXo7N5mPmRksmh7S6-8ueKSj2obDk9xWPZkLqCdbJy3JedUcyH5uwbU-bdvj4qqR7CZa4p1Le_Qgt9gFUE-Z09OVnaXh5c7/s320/PA280023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404803352608085858" /><div style="text-align: left;">There is clearly a heavy Spanish influence in the town's decorative carvings and building design (above and below), but the people in and around the small city are very Ecuadorian, and it was not unusual to see Indigenous dress (colorful skirts, white fedora hats, long-braided hair, and ponchos) right alongside neatly put-together outfits of the latest Quito fashions. </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uKVTiXH7CPs8y0aoVUPGNXySzpNN7oFQ5AhNLbGKtn7nizarddfdVynF3S82me1GDHZgG8koHZQOaQzG39ikcGat2O9zatSZFioFxowb5xIAH9u1TPNkz46NRNcSgNnO8s6r-KiUwFHW/s320/PA280036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404803357862654258" />The next day, we visited the big museum in the old Banco Central, which was full of interesting history of the city and Ecuador in general. There were gorgeous artifacts, detailed descriptions of the spiritual life and ceremonies of the early inhabitants (including the shrinking of heads, elaborate dances, and oral histories told in the form of poems), depictions of dress, artisan works, and building techniques, and finally a explanation and map of an Incan ruin which was located right behind the museum. We of course went out to take a look. </div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkly4hrRJALqM6kXQICoxxyHrbmLG_CreO3qfKdL9OerTZskFlQoPh6v91M1TCQs0nsDfVNqVHgZw3tZxlM2uwe8IlnMYYcg7zkSmHrPGNyJja2-HLWHuqaChK6LpOGfBLHhutj2uVaIin/s320/PA290070.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404804415080471618" />The ruins were mostly rebuilt, but it was neat to walk around in them anyway. We found later that you could see them from quite a distance.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zgZ4ZSyTs1HQda8Twf6gctX91UI3toL6iH-5rE1tyyo3d_cm6C9iyfz1JrxLoNeJVrMQq5tSc0FSdJGd7F9RviDexVdbMq7JRC60kVhF-TUaIvGkasy5T-3gglygjThj30OjjAzuJE1E/s1600/PA290163.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zgZ4ZSyTs1HQda8Twf6gctX91UI3toL6iH-5rE1tyyo3d_cm6C9iyfz1JrxLoNeJVrMQq5tSc0FSdJGd7F9RviDexVdbMq7JRC60kVhF-TUaIvGkasy5T-3gglygjThj30OjjAzuJE1E/s320/PA290163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404811185975337010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">That evening, we went up to a high hill on the south side of the city, and watched the sun set as the lights sparkled on below. (It was from this spot that you could see the ruins.) We noticed that unlike other cities in Ecuador, this one had very few high-rise buildings, and almost all the roofs were still red-tiled. The city has been well preserved as its own entity, functioning somewhat autonomously from the central Ecuadorian government due to its location in the south, and possibly also due to its success at supporting itself. (Perhaps because of the four rivers which run right through it.)</div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje06CjimxEoRsVT6Lstg9TmqaEMBdMuQYPbYl-sejTUbhwWnvmMiu_dWhxl58civOI1F0PDp-JxllPZI3e2LJU1DKV89EMBZHVHmlO_sxw_xhaK2c2NuG3FeMU46b59EobTYs7G5RVpU-g/s1600/PA290155.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje06CjimxEoRsVT6Lstg9TmqaEMBdMuQYPbYl-sejTUbhwWnvmMiu_dWhxl58civOI1F0PDp-JxllPZI3e2LJU1DKV89EMBZHVHmlO_sxw_xhaK2c2NuG3FeMU46b59EobTYs7G5RVpU-g/s320/PA290155.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404811183530377650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">It was a lovely place to visit for a weekend.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-15258096727004037722009-11-08T14:51:00.000-08:002009-11-08T15:55:38.192-08:00Imbabura<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlrubR-OmQtyERdXgqmJIGcrXQjNKB-xMkK8D7QEkNqVKqQn9OuO1YIklNyz3-vWbhmFnWlTZykSbuU2GqxWEeb8Iqf_cTe8NndWbr722NUrM5mB8M3DDOpmKcKKEnwsPa_OHGJ7naLWS/s1600-h/IMG_2520.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlrubR-OmQtyERdXgqmJIGcrXQjNKB-xMkK8D7QEkNqVKqQn9OuO1YIklNyz3-vWbhmFnWlTZykSbuU2GqxWEeb8Iqf_cTe8NndWbr722NUrM5mB8M3DDOpmKcKKEnwsPa_OHGJ7naLWS/s320/IMG_2520.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401881486591463330" /></a>My dad, brother, and I got up early on Saturday morning and drove north to the town Pijal to meet up with our friends the Lechons for a day trip up the mountain Imbabura. The five of us piled into their four-wheel drive pickup truck and after a harrowing trip along rutted and rugged dirt and cobblestone roads, parked it at the base of our chosen trail.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2Tqkvfw1Wfs-av7bnZnXMd58XOHfmoGZqOyO7SfWnaR8-ci1MaCb1XkGNqrMLzlP6w3OcB4q5FrHK5t28_d50gpxtDsenc73NObApZ8IRQPEzBuxaKmhvv8C2sycE2RGKlwJ8bSjrZfp/s1600-h/IMG_2536.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2Tqkvfw1Wfs-av7bnZnXMd58XOHfmoGZqOyO7SfWnaR8-ci1MaCb1XkGNqrMLzlP6w3OcB4q5FrHK5t28_d50gpxtDsenc73NObApZ8IRQPEzBuxaKmhvv8C2sycE2RGKlwJ8bSjrZfp/s320/IMG_2536.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401881482386450226" /></a>We lucked out and chose a beautiful day for the trip. Almost the whole time, we had fabulous clear views. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_i8aS8NNBhwwIFGetvjpbk3dYFESI3izU9FtOjO0tR4vEW6LNln16AFGQjpL1nEvPdlsFl22A58w1mf8DoFR6qNT-S67ythzOvx0tpJBUKzBqMBiL24-z1P7z-LZcphdfT1ttrEjQ73w/s1600-h/IMG_2549.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_i8aS8NNBhwwIFGetvjpbk3dYFESI3izU9FtOjO0tR4vEW6LNln16AFGQjpL1nEvPdlsFl22A58w1mf8DoFR6qNT-S67ythzOvx0tpJBUKzBqMBiL24-z1P7z-LZcphdfT1ttrEjQ73w/s320/IMG_2549.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401881481696466162" /></a>Above: Imbabura's crater, standing at over 4,000 meters<div>Below: Two of our many breath-taking views of the mountain Cayambe to the east. (My brother Caleb took this first picture from up on a higher ridge, can you find me and my dad?)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCpYwwUpMegjlKW6gM3jgV7pBDQ4W5-cgZv1q7VJwbpwKAPDFkcJ5RsCc0I4FFSp1lEWIE58pXIQwnlP_iiVDb-xMOrEmDoShuLFVaYjyrheB6r2sUMuej5LtnnSzCcwE8nQkT46EGqzs/s1600-h/IMG_2545.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCpYwwUpMegjlKW6gM3jgV7pBDQ4W5-cgZv1q7VJwbpwKAPDFkcJ5RsCc0I4FFSp1lEWIE58pXIQwnlP_iiVDb-xMOrEmDoShuLFVaYjyrheB6r2sUMuej5LtnnSzCcwE8nQkT46EGqzs/s320/IMG_2545.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401881477335882194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y98e4NqoWTfMw9p8xS1fSs6u7bbz571MsdhrpXMuWnVG3ZdKM2lNz5q9wYpEa3iq5nz4rxF299oTl8D9fHEwXkzVVvDnPpZrWKO3j1iaVW-HYY1pPORDci4XtcTrjSJ3zsFqHAl7CvAO/s1600-h/IMG_2576.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y98e4NqoWTfMw9p8xS1fSs6u7bbz571MsdhrpXMuWnVG3ZdKM2lNz5q9wYpEa3iq5nz4rxF299oTl8D9fHEwXkzVVvDnPpZrWKO3j1iaVW-HYY1pPORDci4XtcTrjSJ3zsFqHAl7CvAO/s320/IMG_2576.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401879903617280722" /></a>We didn't summit, but we got pretty high. We had a tasty picnic lunch and then practically ran down the steep mountainside. Before we drove home to Quito, we took a detour and drove up to see the lake Mojanda, near the base of the mountain Mojanda. It was especially beautiful to be there around sunset, and the water was so calm. The place radiated tranquility. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO49OW3mZE_RvJgxyEdTx6JZ0OO1M1v1Lu3U6jSkqrK9gexzTJcaTP6Wjj89tP_cIQOPxY-QiL3R5eNnAYhwNAH4X94iBfX0FnKmlTymQvXhFHATU1YBSSsv-7B2V6KHayuzev3KrPACTZ/s1600-h/IMG_2601.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO49OW3mZE_RvJgxyEdTx6JZ0OO1M1v1Lu3U6jSkqrK9gexzTJcaTP6Wjj89tP_cIQOPxY-QiL3R5eNnAYhwNAH4X94iBfX0FnKmlTymQvXhFHATU1YBSSsv-7B2V6KHayuzev3KrPACTZ/s320/IMG_2601.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401879896383281074" /></a>Below: Here we all are at the end of our day. From left to right: Caleb (my brother), Jens (my dad), Me, Edison, and (his dad) Alfonzo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPJ91bxq3FT9TziFqPwCQIhlWWJ7i5U8metcsDvnEvzHRbAQ3fRc1kteYhzjA-OoC_1L02-BLas9J_MeFgXWWtZfIZ1ZgYL2NiN3o6VCCsQF0_2Lnte9Owxcn30K2virSvt-wam6yIJFY/s1600-h/IMG_2600.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPJ91bxq3FT9TziFqPwCQIhlWWJ7i5U8metcsDvnEvzHRbAQ3fRc1kteYhzjA-OoC_1L02-BLas9J_MeFgXWWtZfIZ1ZgYL2NiN3o6VCCsQF0_2Lnte9Owxcn30K2virSvt-wam6yIJFY/s320/IMG_2600.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401878517407998562" /></a>Below: Here's the view of Imbabura at sunset that saw us off on our way home.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLa6MxXa4wwNO6MSfpez-SFGD0V-4SHHMK8Vldp8_1DI2ocDbCNLVTJVZntLO8owyW3HFlQKnmK49R8o5RGDayFpCm-SuK7t3pm5IavoOc3o3lK9aqpCZqP9HJNijv1GyX42_TNFAsMf0/s1600-h/IMG_2608.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLa6MxXa4wwNO6MSfpez-SFGD0V-4SHHMK8Vldp8_1DI2ocDbCNLVTJVZntLO8owyW3HFlQKnmK49R8o5RGDayFpCm-SuK7t3pm5IavoOc3o3lK9aqpCZqP9HJNijv1GyX42_TNFAsMf0/s320/IMG_2608.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401878512851836738" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-15861882347076612522009-11-06T13:17:00.001-08:002009-11-06T18:28:24.253-08:00Joyce Padilla's GardenJoyce Padilla has been a friend of my grandparents for a looong time. She is the grandmother of my friend Jamela, who is the daughter of my father's friend Angie. <div><br /></div><div>Joyce and Angie live in Quito, on a nice piece of land up in the faldas (the skirts) of the mountain Pichincha. Behind Joyce's house, she has a beautifully laid out garden which is beginning to come to life as the rains have started to come (if infrequently.) About once a week, my grandfather and I go over and do exciting dirt-filled projects.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixq11WURuMcYrRXia50iq1YLDT7SnrwU4TXdhr1eDhWT4vBdFZLv6alaMmxglAO_wN6jrF6LaCDULAivOUXBl3nnDe3PcW1JrgpoJD3AB2DdmMdDYsnqjsYj3EwDyU3UfIaTtvKTqUExGI/s320/IMG_2500.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401104320141294242" />Above, Joyce is planting parsley in the semi-shade of the tree that grows from the middle of the garden. She told us (my grandfather and me) that the tree was once a post showing the corner of a bed row, and that it just began to grow. She liked it, and left it there. One of the wonders of gardening in this climate is that everything grows, and it grows all the time. It is no strange thing here that someone stuck a mostly-dead stick in the ground and it grew to be a good sized tree. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbG9KaGVRdgmVyabq4dyXPSeWGmhD-g5uatihTg_L7MlikHC9SEjGcB7hgZBICEhc3pesRZ9KxcPChAZ3LPmdZq4repq8THVeA8AFgANRUITE5FrKNYQ0aT0w1rDaMuNa1e45Mv-j_QxBZ/s1600-h/IMG_2502.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbG9KaGVRdgmVyabq4dyXPSeWGmhD-g5uatihTg_L7MlikHC9SEjGcB7hgZBICEhc3pesRZ9KxcPChAZ3LPmdZq4repq8THVeA8AFgANRUITE5FrKNYQ0aT0w1rDaMuNa1e45Mv-j_QxBZ/s320/IMG_2502.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401111759990435346" /></a>Growing in this marvelous garden are two beds of pinto beans (in the right-hand side of the picture above) and two beds of zapallo verde (in the left-hand side of the picture above.) </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlADJV27LRN5r1Eb9PnT_NuVudpnSJIQlRlmcbWntoJMy2MZSk11xIyxHWJqNZcR80W6fdfeilLMNrmk72VMDgvrQT5KBQf5eGzhTbp55UMpLFWGhDO0ptC9w5pqixNyds68tAN2n9pczu/s320/IMG_2499.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401104316136624098" /><div>Zapallo verde is a big squash that looks a lot like a watermelon but tastes a lot like a summer squash.</div><div> </div><div>There are also several trees on the edges covered in taxo vines (below.) </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpkXb85Sr4F0ybu9iYXFwn_NJ2rvYevw2Nc3yuv8R83XMUm6rcrwGQCEhvrWADDFriYqPs6PlfkqV-Wu3IATCIHE2cfc55RfeHHe-lHDY6hgW7xQ740-mkRnwr2JzKPH4v4QXzs6YI7Kr/s1600-h/IMG_2507.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpkXb85Sr4F0ybu9iYXFwn_NJ2rvYevw2Nc3yuv8R83XMUm6rcrwGQCEhvrWADDFriYqPs6PlfkqV-Wu3IATCIHE2cfc55RfeHHe-lHDY6hgW7xQ740-mkRnwr2JzKPH4v4QXzs6YI7Kr/s320/IMG_2507.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401111756010270338" /></a>Taxo is a yellow fruit with black seeds that can be a little sour but makes a decent juice.</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Pictured below (on the left-hand side) is a half-bed of rhubarb, one of the three beds, which is doing really well and will in the near future be turned into such tasty things as rhubarb wine and possibly pies. Also growing in this corner are several different types of herbs. What can't be seen is to the left of the rhubarb where my grandad has started a "natives bed" with jicama (a sweet edible root) baby transplants and as of today another root plant that closely resembles a nasturtium. To the left of that bed are some small newly transplanted volunteer tomatoes. </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1itCXZp3UFGM8H5LlfUtdOSWR3v8_ZqyPx-7FoRMvYGyTCg0Xuw6RWKRkf7Qb1ABsU1Sj7E-M7DCzwmMs9uGtgW1S4-Vtc_7wlpD25UOAMHY-L0jzfTKna5rNUP9hJR8tzVht6pvk1XSG/s320/IMG_2498.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401104313644541026" />A large part of gardening is taking care of the soil. One of the best ways to do this is to compost "waste" and turn it into rich fertilizer. Below is a picture of the giant pile my grandad and I made, layering mostly dry carbonaceous materials (weeds and grasses) with soil and then wetting it down. <img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBD8WMRsme93wOAdQWxT2LlrgAQQGwGBUhZ590BRWb2quzEv3-M-d2m2vSWCSEDRTdKjf0KKzDTloKpnj7rWUyLSLUVB2tQ2I_dxO8AdUlt8PqrgRmbULmIPNrGSsifhJqUTXbSUAoEick/s320/IMG_2505.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401104326383763906" />Today, we began working on digging a hole for a new compost pile. This compost will be mostly household food waste from the Padillas, such as eggshells, banana peals, moldy left-overs, etc. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uzZwIT-r8GV6N81p9FQBmjpjqpidbcrrhNsPQ-599vOnXCfdmIykHwdMOcySnnjNTqFoAlfDFoqfBGuly_eMbL3CuSnC7w0X3FG0eNlx0uEzR2Bpj82ZH82ug4tppnOSJKB4BVB8YNVF/s1600-h/IMG_2497.JPG"></a></div><div>But before we could dig, we had to clear the space of all the extremely vivacious grasses and weeds. One of the most common grasses here, which is actually native to Kenya and was brought over by cattle ranchers (and quickly took over native local varieties), is called kikuyu grass. It is terribly hearty, extremely exploratory, and somewhat of a pain to clear out. Below, I am holding a mat of it that my grandad tore up, which was growing over the cement edge of the garden wall.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uzZwIT-r8GV6N81p9FQBmjpjqpidbcrrhNsPQ-599vOnXCfdmIykHwdMOcySnnjNTqFoAlfDFoqfBGuly_eMbL3CuSnC7w0X3FG0eNlx0uEzR2Bpj82ZH82ug4tppnOSJKB4BVB8YNVF/s1600-h/IMG_2497.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uzZwIT-r8GV6N81p9FQBmjpjqpidbcrrhNsPQ-599vOnXCfdmIykHwdMOcySnnjNTqFoAlfDFoqfBGuly_eMbL3CuSnC7w0X3FG0eNlx0uEzR2Bpj82ZH82ug4tppnOSJKB4BVB8YNVF/s320/IMG_2497.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401111221442476498" /></a>When we left late in the morning, we had cleared the space and begun to dig an approximately four foot by three foot hole. Some of the soil seemed to be quite rich, and we took it over in wheelbarrow loads to a new squash bed, and used it to widen the bed so that the squash could stretch out. The rest of the dirt we are using to fill in the old compost hole, which was abandoned after an avocado pit took root and grew into a very healthy nice young tree right in the middle. In this hole we layered the copious amount of pulled-up grass with dirt as we had on the compost pile, until it was almost level with the ground.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIIQ3eIK6yaOGqnO9oGkCFtuIe8iSSXrgj140AJXPW4BfuPaBRupwUDF79khEBpjy0bvcj9Dwo7kzIlBPqU0g2cT58-hMr-QmBuQqan03gpvXi8Fxigr2GAyEthSfnWyxgBoXzpQdQ4sC/s1600-h/IMG_2496.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIIQ3eIK6yaOGqnO9oGkCFtuIe8iSSXrgj140AJXPW4BfuPaBRupwUDF79khEBpjy0bvcj9Dwo7kzIlBPqU0g2cT58-hMr-QmBuQqan03gpvXi8Fxigr2GAyEthSfnWyxgBoXzpQdQ4sC/s320/IMG_2496.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401104306194437058" /></a>I love working at Joyce's because it has allowed me to get to know Ecuador in a different way. I have been able to notice details like the different smell of the soil and the speed at which seeds germinate in a way that I might not have otherwise. I have been able to take a close look at new plants and insects, and feel the tremendous proximity of the sun on my back. Not to mention learn all sorts of history and botany from Joyce and my grandad. </div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-24093039770245759562009-11-06T12:39:00.001-08:002009-11-06T13:12:51.091-08:00Thursday Part Three<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWgrdT7cp-6o0ho_N3Cw6oxMziZFJtAcB-EO5oh27ceTDGjnvceJT4Ztiw4y9TuJG4QYV2rHmchKRy0rVLqnrTbO4RCQviEsPQ69tIWGt8LtNSZNFx34LwS1gRoM7yOPnB8OwBk8724mH/s1600-h/IMG_2492.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWgrdT7cp-6o0ho_N3Cw6oxMziZFJtAcB-EO5oh27ceTDGjnvceJT4Ztiw4y9TuJG4QYV2rHmchKRy0rVLqnrTbO4RCQviEsPQ69tIWGt8LtNSZNFx34LwS1gRoM7yOPnB8OwBk8724mH/s320/IMG_2492.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401094021937049218" /></a>The last place we went before heading home was a hospital in Otavalo. Otavalo is a town famous for its artisan markets, and it is beautifully set by a lake at the base of the mountain Imbabura. It also is home to quite a few progressive movements, one of which being "vertical births." This hospital, which in most other respects is a typical hospital in a developing country, provides the option for a woman to give birth in a more natural environment, with the ability to move around and labor in any position she wants. Neither this hospital nor the one in Cotacachi have yet incorporated the use of doulas into their practices, but they are still quite progressive in comparison to many in this country.<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKNZSHLpwcbSh_QojJrGqPftKqX6QmNRkObLGSHm4NLfSBt07J3FPAQj9HmbJZmKYRINpQzyZOgdAFv9Pzspk7HFtkDHQIANmN2dHG4CKyNIp2xNrsvRBpq7qCS-_gadKuo-ohsJ0u_NC/s320/IMG_2488.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401094003465372210" />Above is a photo of the sign above the natural birthing room in the hospital. I believe it literally translates to "Culturally Appropriate Birth" with the Kichwa language translation beneath the Spanish. (We also found this in the clinic in Cotacachi, where the majority of the signs had titles in Spanish and Kichwa.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dIRNuDr6iZw_sitjPx4345_kwy_vS2x8_n41TNdz-5jjhZ074NEHFKF70hE1Eu-tF3Ycqti-oNmDh2WIm778f_EfG88l28rznxAL3-MFsHW_ke5tTbgvcsbX3wUp0pCUfssSyIT6B8Mw/s1600-h/IMG_2490.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dIRNuDr6iZw_sitjPx4345_kwy_vS2x8_n41TNdz-5jjhZ074NEHFKF70hE1Eu-tF3Ycqti-oNmDh2WIm778f_EfG88l28rznxAL3-MFsHW_ke5tTbgvcsbX3wUp0pCUfssSyIT6B8Mw/s320/IMG_2490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401094015448651538" /></a>These are two pictures from inside the birthing room. The dim lights, wood paneling, and soft cloths are much nicer alternatives to the stark and starched norm of the average hospital birthing room. <div>Above: a hanging rope to support upright squatting labor, wall bars wrapped in colorful cloth for support, and a low bed</div><div>Below: wood birthing stool<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X72a6F-b0JaC82FFUvpIHSeEuaPLVCuGON0jiYpzw3IrQHRz_Zj_rj3PtNJOWU1NvSYMv_FU8Bd5CcTl0fsEVoZYln2H9L6_lWHOJr2sGneoG_GZyE07RWbmAK63-v_BeA3CJjDEHdUb/s1600-h/IMG_2489.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X72a6F-b0JaC82FFUvpIHSeEuaPLVCuGON0jiYpzw3IrQHRz_Zj_rj3PtNJOWU1NvSYMv_FU8Bd5CcTl0fsEVoZYln2H9L6_lWHOJr2sGneoG_GZyE07RWbmAK63-v_BeA3CJjDEHdUb/s320/IMG_2489.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401094013074611938" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMOnemPvMT1ECuym1jcLEDYdzRvF2cl7FpK3MK7j5iY1kX2TDkyhHiEyU9oiPTjxXsuPIhX4RK2ZOzMKZZs_-h50W3VcrfBo-XbPrHHlY1NLDjmyKNJSn-85QNGFoK-G23wUDv5EmGPvXI/s1600-h/IMG_2468.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMOnemPvMT1ECuym1jcLEDYdzRvF2cl7FpK3MK7j5iY1kX2TDkyhHiEyU9oiPTjxXsuPIhX4RK2ZOzMKZZs_-h50W3VcrfBo-XbPrHHlY1NLDjmyKNJSn-85QNGFoK-G23wUDv5EmGPvXI/s320/IMG_2468.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401094007184475218" /></a>This trip was fascinating and full of new information, interesting and beautiful sights, and new friends. I am extremely thankful to my grandmother, Helen (above, left), and Nieves (above, right) for helping plan and organize this experience and for accompanying me and providing extra tidbits and wisdom. I am also incredibly thankful to my grandfather, Gene, who drove us and is always teaching me new things about every new environment we enter together. <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-8697028726447005012009-11-06T12:02:00.001-08:002009-11-06T12:35:49.331-08:00Thursday Part Two<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSm05YTiHZasc8rOzgbGfdZkpbW0bhJ8A1K5TABJ4tljrJZuaVJQawgbugQmVr_LH4zU4NEbXU7QSO9SjGq64bXHB_L90WlQp17HRRuReipf-T-oA82KxYr4HYtHMuWew8cMOQEHEhQVk1/s320/IMG_2442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401084869678930114" />Next, we drove through Cotacachi, past some old haciendas, to Santa Rosa - my grandparents' old farm that they owned with Pablo and Nieves. They sold it about 15 years ago, and it has been split into several pieces, but standing where we did, it still looked quite splendid.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0tG5sBZTlk-fTtOClutVTI6ujRyT9u8yebOihITOfE3EBEBhtLPR1js0Lv-K5cRV62aHuuEylf6pRguhbYybq6xJnv5MwMZTJXeVlaQ__sUb55m1la8tV1E2ToGYpAyU3ga5dIMcjnb8/s1600-h/IMG_2483.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0tG5sBZTlk-fTtOClutVTI6ujRyT9u8yebOihITOfE3EBEBhtLPR1js0Lv-K5cRV62aHuuEylf6pRguhbYybq6xJnv5MwMZTJXeVlaQ__sUb55m1la8tV1E2ToGYpAyU3ga5dIMcjnb8/s320/IMG_2483.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401084885574903026" /></a>Across a deep quebrada and a low valley you could see the mountain Imbabura (above) wearing a skirt of clouds.<div>Like the farms outside of Riobamba, this one had water ways that wound around, with crossways that could be shut off allowing the water to be directed elsewhere for a while.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFblJJI9CFKmXudgZ3rdmp-hCD3a83bvyjFa-qCXKPws-ylo5I44_fCqVVYYX9Ijutlu9yq8OCd3oz-v4zIGdTFNtAzJ9KA2KnpGuROh4DPpKsK8P5DNhiiQx9EepOmVf4DMcWE7E5XTa/s1600-h/IMG_2449.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFblJJI9CFKmXudgZ3rdmp-hCD3a83bvyjFa-qCXKPws-ylo5I44_fCqVVYYX9Ijutlu9yq8OCd3oz-v4zIGdTFNtAzJ9KA2KnpGuROh4DPpKsK8P5DNhiiQx9EepOmVf4DMcWE7E5XTa/s320/IMG_2449.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401084881460434786" /></a>The farm was producing all sorts of beautiful things, from grapes (below), to plums and herbs, to guinea pigs and cows, to potatoes and tangerines.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGubbpGRdKuRxkG9i5jsJXZJ27-NGl7Us94DvEWT4FkEh4OvML86bC02uW0PczQhhJhxIlTJwvJugM8Zv-YP5nhK0WJTHQIe7Rb3zTARN29qL_5b8bCiLWbhGhcBU8GdbtSe_c-_bxVFEu/s1600-h/IMG_2461.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGubbpGRdKuRxkG9i5jsJXZJ27-NGl7Us94DvEWT4FkEh4OvML86bC02uW0PczQhhJhxIlTJwvJugM8Zv-YP5nhK0WJTHQIe7Rb3zTARN29qL_5b8bCiLWbhGhcBU8GdbtSe_c-_bxVFEu/s320/IMG_2461.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401084878600836530" /></a>Below you can see the potato field being plowed/weeded by a pair of oxen lead by two men. (Did you know that "janta" means team of oxen in Spanish?) There was also a woman with them, coming along behind, perhaps picking up disturbed potatoes.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Yqfi-s1pOG396kJd37dfPbE6hyfHelKts4k0HfY3lu_KRVFFQNxCmpwNDU2Gp5QaDr7An5MkZ8I7KocH4h8SlA8lZ-OkDSwbMgJcRU4oHEA2J257yMZDo5RnF1_oibKZO76IPELn3dS/s1600-h/IMG_2469.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3Yqfi-s1pOG396kJd37dfPbE6hyfHelKts4k0HfY3lu_KRVFFQNxCmpwNDU2Gp5QaDr7An5MkZ8I7KocH4h8SlA8lZ-OkDSwbMgJcRU4oHEA2J257yMZDo5RnF1_oibKZO76IPELn3dS/s320/IMG_2469.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401084876141831618" /></a>To the far left in the above photo, perhaps it is hard to tell, but there are a whole bunch of greenhouses. This area of Ecuador has a very good climate for growing flowers which are mainly exported all around the world. <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-46877689462644084952009-11-06T11:13:00.000-08:002009-11-06T11:56:23.006-08:00Thursday Part One<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWxxOw0o3zal8bh6d-_16zJuFygixUHIQ1C7f4V0cYUFA24ivHQrT4VqwMglSfMXs-pxwB8aGPantvmLwL3Z_9mDlQr-JIFlEDtnasBoLhUhGvyLBL1J_PeF9F2g8_2ZC3qJ1TBdsvATV/s320/IMG_2425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401071770481156722" /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;line-height:150%">Quite early yesterday morning, I met my grandparents and Nieves on the corner outside my house, hopped in the car and headed out north of Quito to Cotacachi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were fortunate at that early hour to have a splendid view of the snow-capped mountain Cayambe, and then as we neared our destination a panorama of smaller (though here, that is still quite large) green mountains and crooked quebradas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a beautiful ride, which culminated in our arrival in the beautiful old town around 8am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We wound around some cobble stone roads, past a school and little shops, and found our way to the little hospital at which we’d made our appointment.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFVnASZx1TFWjfOfrtZ1_0AVq57oXiHdFYfgwQpCYv_UaQCP6iGy_hNZQrGJtu2JVliRTbz7kfxxFar8SpXqm8aFp3lO2RkzXEVxpTV6MN2NmBAgnifAIKWAeCkx05FhcYYh0_zeR2YPr/s320/IMG_2441.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401071778044691778" /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%">There were already some people there, mostly just waiting around in the grass outside or in the large waiting rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In comparison to my experience of clinics/hospitals in Burkina Faso and Bangladesh, where more than an hour before doctors arrived there were usually crowds of people squatting out front, I felt it all to be quite calm and organized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>However, I immediately noticed the familiar anti-septic smell of scrubbed concrete hospital floors and heavily bleached tile surfaces that I have come to associate specifically with rural health care facilities and that tends to always put me (and others I believe) in a mild state of anxiety or discomfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAMgGaHCw7JhTWe-F4vk3mCOpItTUoO9sESP82GZa0n_HqhA9hw_uM0nJry0ZjioTk7bg2AYAZ2Fd6rrSout-dVYa_UCwZxtosHaUPVtErepnoEi7qwDeUYGWv33ef8JJz-pRy9SyxUFs/s320/IMG_2435.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401071773176222546" /><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:150%">The doctor Audrey García, a young Columbian in her eighth month of pregnancy, kindly gave us over an hour of her time to explain a little about the health care system in the area, their particular program (especially around obstetrics), and their vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She also gave us a short tour to check out the new birthing room for “vertical births,” the typical birthing room, and one of the labor rooms (in which we met two of the hospital’s obstetricians.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After the tour, we also had the opportunity to meet the gynecologist who is also the surgeon who performs c-sections.</p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEYVYnISFLHVoxZJ9y8BqNrZmc_tVASU_VaBoPyR-krldh_R64TpTe7Ho5ozgOxVjIyhSeenMUqZqlETm8wgsq3YpBY1moosFhShD69V17uNsxjX8BLK8VDktQpWqcEZioP7O0H58jvZ84/s320/IMG_2433.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401071773922794066" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Above: La Doctora is showing us how the wall bars work in their new birthing room.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What interested us in this clinic, and why we drove a couple hours to come take a look at it, is that it is known for trying to provide a mixture of Western (Oxidental) and Traditional healthcare practices. In terms of labor and delivery, this means that they are working with local midwives (training - especially around danger signs in pregnancy and birth- and encouraging them to refer women with complicated pregnancies to the hospital), providing in-hospital care that takes local practices into account (such as bringing the placenta home), and building a new birthing room next to the super "modern" delivery room that allows for what they are calling "vertical births" or labors and deliveries not confined to a table and stirrups. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Among the many interesting things that Doctora García told us is that the area they are responsible for is quite large (around 19,000 km with a population of 49,092 people) and diverse with a high Indigenous population (around 37%). Though the government is trying to centralize healthcare, in Cotacachi they have been doing such a decent job that the government has let them remain somewhat in charge of themselves. One of the things that they are doing especially well is sending out medical staff into the field, or doing something similar to mobile clinics. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She finished her mini-lecture by explaining that discrimination and prejudice are their biggest obstacles. To be truly successful at providing good care, everyone will have to overcome their prejudices and trust each other (for example, the Indigenous have expressed a fear that their ways will be stolen from them). I'll end with a quote from her that she said as part of this explanation:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"They are not dirty. They don't have water. It is hard to bathe without water. We have hot water. If they have water at all, it is cold. It is complicated and difficult to bathe with cold water."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-1987799195533569222009-11-02T17:18:00.001-08:002009-11-04T14:38:20.398-08:00AntisanaToday and tomorrow are holidays here in Ecuador, and so we used this free day to go see one of Ecuador bigger mountains - Antisana. The land around the base is privately owned by one big hacienda, so we had to get special permission to come in. However, probably because of the limited access nature of the place, the road was in great condition and the wildlife abundant. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDcNGGCEP8Een_Y_WBLy8V_fZyhMYMm0cgSbb-ia6IkYhV6HTFWdkcHBqdEWPZbHW8d5iywxrbwPGBueJn33LH478dqV_VYZW2tq0uLs0B2lD-7uA2cl21VvVxwrihr66zTUNUbIu0HwY/s1600-h/IMG_2351.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDcNGGCEP8Een_Y_WBLy8V_fZyhMYMm0cgSbb-ia6IkYhV6HTFWdkcHBqdEWPZbHW8d5iywxrbwPGBueJn33LH478dqV_VYZW2tq0uLs0B2lD-7uA2cl21VvVxwrihr66zTUNUbIu0HwY/s320/IMG_2351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685468872394834" /></a>Antisana sits in the parramo, a great expanse of wet grasslands that is both extremely diverse and important to Ecuador. As I understand it, most of Ecuador's water comes from the water reserves of the parramo lands (and as a result of this ever-growing dependence, there are many problems conserving and protecting it.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi3GH8YHHheqij_79wOKTa_VlmdfsYpCOODnmZIMkb_OulcYw55H67qzSxZLiHT6_TKpxYIG1OPo78WymuyaOb_lUb3CYNkpiNFllJw_I9nXQYE6Xy2sfQFXHC_cWKZoOPJwVqszZwTrw/s1600-h/IMG_2282.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi3GH8YHHheqij_79wOKTa_VlmdfsYpCOODnmZIMkb_OulcYw55H67qzSxZLiHT6_TKpxYIG1OPo78WymuyaOb_lUb3CYNkpiNFllJw_I9nXQYE6Xy2sfQFXHC_cWKZoOPJwVqszZwTrw/s320/IMG_2282.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685466618210994" /></a>Above is the bottom of the mountain Antisana (and my little brother, Caleb, running around on the squishy plain.) We got only a couple full-view sightings of the immense mountain, but we were fortunate to have those, as the area is well-known for its rain and heavy clouds. Below is an abandoned hut and behind it what we speculated to be a re-planting of parramo grass in an effort to keep the hillside from further erosion.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKSXcNlrDk16_2AO48lC0nvyzkU6vaVIqmyVDYkq5BOJ0Yfyu86yE3CXVDj4oJUNn-L1tJ3VSZl4R_ZGejjrUI1Wb5kX1SF4A5LK0_EOXPwOiVlJACHQw093XNmHqnsdXVR9v5lAOgFdl/s1600-h/IMG_2277.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKSXcNlrDk16_2AO48lC0nvyzkU6vaVIqmyVDYkq5BOJ0Yfyu86yE3CXVDj4oJUNn-L1tJ3VSZl4R_ZGejjrUI1Wb5kX1SF4A5LK0_EOXPwOiVlJACHQw093XNmHqnsdXVR9v5lAOgFdl/s320/IMG_2277.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685466044086162" /></a>The incredible distances we could see were mind boggling. It was hard to believe how far away a hill was until you started walking toward it and it never got much closer. The strange and beautiful patterns of plants and cloud shadows coupled with the undulating motion of the tall grasses in the winds continually gave me the impression of being at the bottom of the sea.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2esStZqaitAF16-3PEyOg-XsCuIiC4e6-t6Vw9-wqWaa-aEvElyFPSYn8Rch7oADj75Iju16-HvJ35jrFECekbpTL9UOmmPFI8x1tvus03BYp3Rdqm350uo03WV1yLRat86ci0iFnJczK/s1600-h/IMG_2248.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2esStZqaitAF16-3PEyOg-XsCuIiC4e6-t6Vw9-wqWaa-aEvElyFPSYn8Rch7oADj75Iju16-HvJ35jrFECekbpTL9UOmmPFI8x1tvus03BYp3Rdqm350uo03WV1yLRat86ci0iFnJczK/s320/IMG_2248.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399681817775385426" /></a>Below are some of the cool plants we were walking through and past and on:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcrEK8-nYHKmgAAjGGaYc5ApAQYTqQkv-oNw6c9E1O-xOSGPTpVohYGWDZiCre4NPROP4FUrmHq37D_yDHIOZL8lH3U2Wao4-V3QCOiezt8C3sCYz4PaNQmZuycdIeZ_UQllAqIvG772t/s1600-h/IMG_2234.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcrEK8-nYHKmgAAjGGaYc5ApAQYTqQkv-oNw6c9E1O-xOSGPTpVohYGWDZiCre4NPROP4FUrmHq37D_yDHIOZL8lH3U2Wao4-V3QCOiezt8C3sCYz4PaNQmZuycdIeZ_UQllAqIvG772t/s320/IMG_2234.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399681814954453170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCuPZaFoSZRNX6g2pc2fAiakXDc-L1lUP3xTCX6VW_LlDUbToaUZ_LDZWpHm1J8UrxvL1M8QajRb542fyXaDFTmSFDSnZQrnoNsDdfgzKtqnXi1rU-Gh78n8xqLwVKO9Znlrmq1LmdulR/s1600-h/IMG_2228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCuPZaFoSZRNX6g2pc2fAiakXDc-L1lUP3xTCX6VW_LlDUbToaUZ_LDZWpHm1J8UrxvL1M8QajRb542fyXaDFTmSFDSnZQrnoNsDdfgzKtqnXi1rU-Gh78n8xqLwVKO9Znlrmq1LmdulR/s320/IMG_2228.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399681810851769890" /></a>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-10631571499018869872009-10-31T15:29:00.000-07:002009-10-31T17:15:33.766-07:00What happens in Ecuador on Halloween?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The day that in the States we celebrate as Halloween, here in Ecuador we celebrate as the Day of the Dead. Traditionally, people gather together and drink a special juice called Colada Morada made with fruits and all sorts of spices, and drunk alongside a special kind of bread called Guaguas de Pan (meaning "bread babies" and literally being in the shape of babies.)</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Our family spent the afternoon with an long-time friend, Fabiola (pictured below holding a photo of her and her late husband).<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-3BiFG40O2i6BK8kwP7HBP-KVpDTtvJ0g2QOJ93QyuGVzwCWWymxSUmA-4dM5YmkrMFSQthO0WkpNNRcVjh2UVDt7X7Krjqv2-jXvyyFzYyLiGFs8XvFXo_kCLFqRGCsK5cfurpVl2xS/s320/IMG_2125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398896335689819330" /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>After a very big meal, consisting of a lot of meat and juice that tasted a lot like Tang, we got a tour of the awesome back yard. I thought I'd take the opportunity to get pictures of some of the plants new to my world:<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4u_S_TUD6QKGiPod8QcyIq4kawQcDnkzXHpP1PPWs5o2AnKidRJgMoCZ9rsmBjso7LuHQ2PeOpc91xaq9kJr8TvY225C-j4P1yYEpQ_aUoZ5OGonLZBrmv6bIeVH3-8thjPKT-0GnSlOv/s320/IMG_2159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398897047271106002" />Above: can you find the guanabana fruit? The insides are white with black seeds, and can be made into a super tasty juice.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdQznWABcs4PvXfYd2x_GfFD8tZnj1GCouROJD24J5e2d8rKFr-jGfKFuOwDhGuTyhqS8lHs87mnuVrXZrDrppqFgyK0KM6kp06MQnvibw4uyjAc6A1ilIJJuCC-BPF-UKe1s9wlIDstW/s320/IMG_2161.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398897043859973362" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Grapes! The technique I am trying to show above is an arbor over a patio made from barbed wire strung between the roof and tall metal poles. Below, some pretty sweet blue grapes growing on wire hung horizontally along the garden wall.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiipRFFITiaR4n-62RYy98MuPIEtFZKKtriaI6DWN1No0GGqU0_Z9Weeqnxuzw_TcOASd9f89bzGN0u8UCl3CSsjqoc1crUv1sLiH8HzfYDw-ufshnhT5yA5Kkp1rgMC41iwxICBf60Kz5R/s320/IMG_2146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398896345250768914" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Below is a very sweet tasting pepper, that seems to me more like a type of cucumber. The flowers however, are just like those on a typical pepper plant. </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvAi1yd3YmrTTZOPkNWjxYUQa90Umld1GmW-1ysz0-NbwHNx2RiQ3rgcAvBoS41DupQfJQKWJkNFi8pCZUhlJnB-cSerjPjcVKtAjuR7c6AcUdZDez3gFK2kt_H47N3rWq1t0Ad4t3o_e/s320/IMG_2141.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398896341513662994" />Below is the chicken range. The roosters were allowed to roam freely, but their chickens and their oh-so-cute and oh-so-elusive chicks were in here. It's not terribly clear, but there are plastic bags hanging around the fenced ceiling and sides to shoo away other birds that like to come in and share the chicken food.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3icrc1nCQA6TIfYfp4oxb0-l-Ubvw02gjgdcd7NP-mfJGCUo0sw-I11r4-8blAtfiphhwMmYs9WXTJvO-pm-Y6VJ7Z97y3h-YuIQxfdCqCR5F-kGXCErCtOAZaTiNA-xt1PkQXHIw60ht/s1600-h/IMG_2128.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3icrc1nCQA6TIfYfp4oxb0-l-Ubvw02gjgdcd7NP-mfJGCUo0sw-I11r4-8blAtfiphhwMmYs9WXTJvO-pm-Y6VJ7Z97y3h-YuIQxfdCqCR5F-kGXCErCtOAZaTiNA-xt1PkQXHIw60ht/s320/IMG_2128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398896338410002306" /></a>Along with the things mentioned above, there were tangy tangerines growing on short plentiful trees, an avocado tree, a long berry bush, cabbage, herbs, and other typical garden plants. It was wonderful to see such an abundance in a backyard after seeing so much cement most of the time. I was especially fond of the large bush of brilliant boganvillea out front and the super cute little dog that accompanied us everywhere.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvddYN9v44sR0O2xashbLg_v5WmcEIFyMgzrp0eozVFYvL0yeSCpbAgJtSGOGG_BIeKbaqsx0UgqF4Z_G183sXg94Tbl8ybcJgUVBOMNSH7xjEdNHzu-dIZmricrwHfHAr4Mzzupag8Jz0/s320/IMG_2153.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398905918088989474" /><div><br /></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-63158905439378310912009-10-31T15:28:00.000-07:002009-10-31T15:29:16.340-07:00A Birth Story<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><i><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Characters</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Charito</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">: on-call doula, over fifty, extremely knowledgeable, a little bossy, my best mentor at the clinic.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Olga</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">: doula, around forty, very kind, only comes into the clinic a couple times a week.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Cecilia</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">: mother, thirty-six, strong and warm.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Dr. Alarcón</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">: head doctor and director of the clinic, around fifty, jovial.</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> When I arrived, I found Charito and others in the cafeteria just finishing up lunch. They immediately hurried me along with them upstairs, as a woman was in advanced labor with her third baby. Generally, but not always, labors get shorter with each baby, so they were getting prepared for a fast birth.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Cecilia was laboring hard on a birth ball when Charito, Olga, and I entered. Her husband was smiling with great crinkles by his eyes, supporting her through contractions by rubbing her lower back and holding her hands.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> It was not long before she started needing to push and Charito encouraged her to go ahead and do that. The resident came in to ask some questions between contractions, until it was clear the Cecilia was pushing on each one. We left the room so she could change into a gown. I learned that she had been laboring since 6am this morning. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> At the Clinica La Primavera, one of the doulas´ favorite things to give the dad</span><a href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">[1]</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> to do is to write down the start, end time, and intensity of each of his partner’s contractions on a clipboard. For some dads, this is great because it gives them a place and a job in the birth room where otherwise they would be feeling left out and useless. However, in some cases it gets in the way of their ability to be as supportive and present to their partner as they would like or feel the need to be. I cringed a little when Olga scolded Cecilia’s husband for not doing this job when he was being a great birth-partner. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Cecilia stopped to pee on the way from her room to the massage room. Once we got there though, we only stayed for two contractions. The resident did an internal exam</span><a href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">[2]</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> to find that the baby’s head was well on its way, and suggested we move to the tub room. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> In the tub, Cecilia changed positions three times. She started in a vertical squat holding onto the cloth hanging from the ceiling, moved to partially sitting with her back against the tub wall with her knees bent, and finally gave birth to her third baby (second girl) on her hands and knees. Approximately fifteen minutes later, Dr. Alarcón helped deliver the placenta under water.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> The move from the tub to the room was much smoother than others I have seen, though there was a moment right after Cecilia got out of the tub when she began shivering hard. We covered her in extra blankets and Charito told her to breathe slowly through her nose. Cecilia soon relaxed, and was gently rolled to her room, with her husband at her side with their new baby in his arms. </span></p> <div style="mso-element:footnote-list"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"> <div id="ftn"> <p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">[1]</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Some women do not come with a significant other and are often accompanied by other family members. In these cases, I’ve observed that usually a male relative is given this job as his only job, or it is not done consistently, filled out by the doula, the mother/mother-in-law, or sister (who are also providing labor support).</span></p> </div> <div style="mso-element:footnote" id="ftn"> <p class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="#_ftnref" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">[2]</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> One of the things I like about this clinic is their commitment to keeping births as un-invasive as they know how. This includes no or only one internal exam, no IVs, and well-spaced relaxed baby heart monitoring.</span></p> </div> </div> <!--EndFragment-->Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-23347028168303325892009-10-22T13:31:00.000-07:002009-10-22T14:07:45.046-07:00La Clinica La Primavera<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_fG1QkqIyi_2196xYUpLLYTcag5OL8yLFUmP27NrRtyRIYIU8i92zVNLofEX3mAhhFeoFgKuUWrwSbE3u5m6_dFMJlrAkF9uBPS_XsHXpwVBL_C80b7b-AEdMIB2ULxeOR29ITTSrH5y/s1600-h/IMG_2019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_fG1QkqIyi_2196xYUpLLYTcag5OL8yLFUmP27NrRtyRIYIU8i92zVNLofEX3mAhhFeoFgKuUWrwSbE3u5m6_dFMJlrAkF9uBPS_XsHXpwVBL_C80b7b-AEdMIB2ULxeOR29ITTSrH5y/s320/IMG_2019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395534004722102866" /></a><br />Of the many thrilling things I've had the opportunity to do here in Ecuador, one has been to work as a doula in a small birthing clinic outside of Quito city in a town called Cumbaya. The clinic is unusual for its commitment to natural birth and labor support, and because it specializes in water birth. In the U.S. this is unusual. In Ecuador outside of the upper-middle class and wealthy, it's virtually unheard of. <div><br /></div><div>The majority of women in Ecuador give birth in a super de-humanized hospital birth environment these days, though from what I understand, these births only became the norm in the past half-century. Before, as is still the case in rural Indigenous communities, all births were at home and attended by a midwife ("partera" in Spanish). </div><div><br /></div><div>Though there are no midwives at the Clinica La Primavera, the head doctor (Diego Alarcon), residents, nurses, and doulas all practice in ways similar to nurse-midwifery in the States. Part of it comes from the culture, where there is always time to ask a person's name, how they are feeling, how their family is, where they're from, what they'd like. As my taxi driver informed me this afternoon, in our relatively inevitable discussion about the difference between the U.S. and Ecuador, Ecuadorians look after a person's heart and soul. His impression was that Americans look out for a person's physical appearance and monetary success. Dr. Alarcon lives up to Ecuadorian expectations, being incredibly committed to peaceful, joyful, healthy patient care. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, as in every medical institution that I have visited, there are things that could be improved. I believe that from within a certain perspective, it can be extremely difficult to identify hypocrisies and harmful behaviors. I will soon follow this post with some birth stories in hopes of showing you what I mean. </div><div><br /></div><div>Interested in this clinic? Check out their website at: www.clinicalaprimavera.org</div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-65352233904527336992009-10-21T11:22:00.000-07:002009-10-22T18:53:15.974-07:00AtacamesI am sorry for the pause between posts. I am happy to report that it has been due to a full and fascinating couple of weeks. <div><br /></div><div>The weekend that followed Sam's and my encounter with the water protest, my family and my god-brother piled into our tiny car and took off for the coast. The ride was a little under six hours, and through many different climates and micro-climates. We started out in the high mountain terrain, with long bleached grasses, hearty low-to-the-ground flowers, pine and eucalyptus trees, and strong mosses. As we went down to lower altitudes, we went through lush grassy lands, past teak wood and palm oil plantations, down bumpy roads lined with living-fences of lechera trees, arriving eventually in the low flat lands dotted with shrimp ponds.</div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived in Atacames, a large town right on the beach, tucked into a cove with a point that stuck its bleached rocks out into the immense blue-green stretch of ocean. The coast of Ecuador is totally different from the mountains. The Spanish spoken is faster and tends to lose important consonants, there are no ponchos and fedoras (the typical dress in the mountains), and many more people our height and taller. The streets were full of vendors selling jewelry made of local woods and nuts, ceviche and chips, fresh fruit juices, and sunglasses. Reggeaton music rhythmically shook the strings of shells that hung from almost every open-faced restaurant walls. It was hot and the sun was bright despite the thin layer of clouds, and sand quickly permeated everything in the car. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some friends had lent us an apartment right outside the town, where you could look out the wide windows over the fan palms and the bright pink hibiscus flowers and see the fishing boats bobbing out past the waves. The swimming felt great, though the waves weren't quite big enough for good body-surfing, and the wet sand felt nice between my toes. It was easy to fall asleep that first night, I think my body really enjoyed the extra oxygen having become accustomed to the thin air up in Quito. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day-Saturday-my little brother Caleb woke up and put on his bright yellow Ecuador soccer jersey. Ecuador was playing Uruguay to go to the World Cup. All day people got ready for this game. Men walked around wearing Ecuadorian flags like capes, tiny children ran around in full Ecuadorian uniforms. Women wore red, yellow, and blue themed outfits. People were gathered around TVs at every store, bar, restaurant, porch, and hotel long before the game began, watching the stadium in Quito fill (ironically, that stadium is practically right next door to our house) and listening to pro-Ecuador rally songs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tragically, right before the game began, my brother, dad, and Edison (my god brother) had decided to go swimming and Edison had been bit by a sea monster. Well, not really a sea monster, a certain poison-spined fish that tends to hang out around beaches eating trash. My mom and I had gone for a walk down the beach, and when we returned the poor guy was in some pain. My dad had talked to some of the locals who had oo-ed and informed him that this was a very painful thing, and we should go to the clinic in town pronto. Being interested in all things clinic-related, I accompanied Edison and my dad into town and on a short wild-goose chase to find the place that had been recommended. </div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor and a nurse were the only people there, and they were watching the game. Even the streets were empty. Edison probably got the fastest help in the history of Ecuadorian healthcare. The doctor injected some local anesthetic and used his thumb and forefinger to press out the dark venom. He then gave Edison a shot of antibiotic and a prescription for some more, encouraged him to take a pain-killer, and not to eat shrimp, colored beverages, pork, and other seemingly random items. He told him to eat fresh veggies, fruit, and drink a whole lot of water. My dad's theory which seems the most plausible for this advice, was that this was the doctor's best method for getting people to eat healthy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, because of this stunningly fast service, Edison (who was very preoccupied at this point) only missed half of the game, and it was especially alright because the only goals scored happened in the second half. My mom and Caleb had found a great place to watch the game at a hotel while we were gone and we joined them and watched it while drinking sweet watermelon juice. </div><div><br /></div><div>That night it was quiet in Atacames. Ecuador had lost, in the very last second of the game. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, we took the two hour drive to Mompiche, another beach known for bigger waves. Momphiche was everything I loved about Atacames without all the commercialism. We spent the day enjoying the clear water, examining a moon-scape of coral, collecting interesting shells, and speculating about the large dark brown clay deposits seemingly randomly scattered around the beach. We think that the area was once a Mangrove Swamp, judging from the few remaining trees and shrimp pools. The clay was rich with other organic material, and felt nice to roll in my palm.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a nice meal of fishy things, rice, and Fanta, and one more dip in the sea, we headed back on the long dirt road to Atacames. In the morning, the boys jumped in the water one last time, before we piled everything back into the car and began our journey back to Quito. We went a different way this time, and in between naps got glimpses of Colombia, rolling green hills and lush valleys, wide bare mountainsides, and paramo lands. We swerved around big potholes, debris from little landslides, and slow moving trucks, and arrived in Ibarra to drop off Edison to find it cool and drizzling. By the time we got to Quito it was pouring. In our absence, the rainy season had begun. </div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-61245713759612268032009-10-06T18:06:00.000-07:002009-10-08T14:37:13.916-07:00Monday's adventure part II<div>After the botanical gardens, Sam and I decided to go on a nice outing to the old part of town. It was sunny and hot, and we admired the old Spanish architecture as we made our way from the ecovia station up to the central square. To our surprise, the square was full. Not only was it full, but it was full of people with flags and spears, face paint, and riot gear. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdi2UJyGvQY-CY_geO1Bis-deq0fl7I-HXuoIdvvH73p2EGUtpCkEY7OoszgMQ12zK9dos_v_ipGRg3LU1zY9W6GsVZqWqh3fo2yb9YaDpMRL3KdfoyW8oWu8Xz6zKNExZ4Dw0oFMNBja/s320/IMG_1694.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389659095598257042" border="0" /><div style="text-align: left;">Curious, we stuck around to find out what was going on. It turns out that the protesters were several hundred of the indigenous population who had come from everywhere from the jungle (oriente) to the Cayambe area. They had come to stand in front of the building in which Correa (the president) and several other political leaders were discussing a law about the privatization of water. The protesters were there to demonstrate their strong opposition to it, and planned to stick around as long as it took for a decision to be reached. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYk8FGIZAK030JboOK5S6vGPgz7KUKy1ghfYDjeNuRdQPh34CE9bfn9asNMabmK6plyl_bUltWuVdi6wtAtydec2C-kqVV6rXuvAmnQS13KfNvUQ0tRJtS4B1knkyprZft8F-vwdi0yrEY/s320/IMG_1685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389659091114753330" border="0" />The riot police and army soldiers, overwhelming in numbers, mostly stood around bored or chatted with the protesters. This is not to say that the protesters were calm-there was continuos chanting, some poster burnings, a few spear shakings, and once some guys tried to climb up the building. However, it seemed pretty clear to everyone, despite the large numbers of the crowd and the copious weaponry of the police and soldiers, that this was not going to be a violent episode. The idea was just to make enough noise and commotion that Correa, in a conference room above with frosted windows, would hear and be reminded of the people's opinions. <br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoOoTz0ZFOfwZuZYjuJkvq8gih6aIge-_T3CCo555cI9MhXvchLfE86NyI5jqlpMIuYGx5KKHHDuQztrVgn2SOUghdQMdW7QN7psTXYUZ5SV-h_XUiVUVpJpWh8NUI0AyBnM-JUBnG4vm/s320/IMG_1720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389659105243645554" border="0" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It started to rain half-way through the afternoon, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and as people moved beneath trees and trash bags, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the police put on their helmets and used their shields as umbrellas.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We hung out (had some interesting conversations with some of the riot police and a few of the protesters) until late evening. The meeting had ended, but no one was coming out to announce the decision and the crowd was starting to move in a more agitated way. As it got dark and the decorative lights came on up on the church balconies, we took our leave. According to the newspaper (El Comercio) the next day the politicians did come to an agreeable decision in the end. </span></div></div>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-55819807323962785452009-10-06T17:31:00.000-07:002009-10-06T18:53:13.137-07:00Monday's adventure part I<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI05NHowHpdDJu5m7V4irdJ7Etz-ldzKDYe3jGrDadAOSEJ20UplZSXR7c2qrtrWQ2ugaJ4ahtetrJ3JpKG882Y9R-E-_xfz-nPJGBIhlfFJ-xojjh5eIFoEe-kDaRysnmyf1z_d46J_cn/s1600-h/IMG_1594.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI05NHowHpdDJu5m7V4irdJ7Etz-ldzKDYe3jGrDadAOSEJ20UplZSXR7c2qrtrWQ2ugaJ4ahtetrJ3JpKG882Y9R-E-_xfz-nPJGBIhlfFJ-xojjh5eIFoEe-kDaRysnmyf1z_d46J_cn/s320/IMG_1594.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389651548786810562" border="0" /></a><br />On Monday, Sam and I started our adventures by going to the Quito Botanical Gardens in the Parque Carolina with my Grandad, Gene. The Botanical Garden was split up into 7 different parts covering all the climates of Ecuador: wet lands, cloud forests, paramo, desert/cactus environment, cool and hot climate orchids, summer flowers, and cultivated crops.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1V7sAvq-P96pGv_9AgH8uDPHWKZM5DxN5t6G6i0RwdU1daYBepmngRIYxOX1IJfnxcWpZNoq8VBqdyt4d8bh1fPzjOiUHCOw5q0wWfXg_X62sCHTDNRg5xQhk97-mVht_nym8ys5Ss2KL/s1600-h/IMG_1648.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1V7sAvq-P96pGv_9AgH8uDPHWKZM5DxN5t6G6i0RwdU1daYBepmngRIYxOX1IJfnxcWpZNoq8VBqdyt4d8bh1fPzjOiUHCOw5q0wWfXg_X62sCHTDNRg5xQhk97-mVht_nym8ys5Ss2KL/s320/IMG_1648.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389652884715816370" border="0" /></a>above is an orchid from the hot-climate green house and below are some cacti labeled "seat of the mother-in-law"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3NrqwdU57t2VHd2R0znbWA7SIoxSPhEcXPBlMcZKXe9_xL7wkcXbyNAe9fhmibQYR-JmPosXb3Bf-NI83VtIPmYza_4_qhaZmF2GITjeH2G5VHm1AqyLHqNo54PbmH8uHKyi9w8n0Jur/s1600-h/IMG_1633.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3NrqwdU57t2VHd2R0znbWA7SIoxSPhEcXPBlMcZKXe9_xL7wkcXbyNAe9fhmibQYR-JmPosXb3Bf-NI83VtIPmYza_4_qhaZmF2GITjeH2G5VHm1AqyLHqNo54PbmH8uHKyi9w8n0Jur/s320/IMG_1633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389652879048060002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5RbWlaDdDhsR_AUTHuFnwIHqlD02umQcDIvhr36V8ymY1GlfYTCrNWxIUgmEsyIPVftDo1oKXWfO-E1pEN-G0sH4QYHvW9SEf3XU6YpHs-UkgrArdda3Eol07ZBHQDP3gzVzYY_z3Gtm/s1600-h/IMG_1628.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5RbWlaDdDhsR_AUTHuFnwIHqlD02umQcDIvhr36V8ymY1GlfYTCrNWxIUgmEsyIPVftDo1oKXWfO-E1pEN-G0sH4QYHvW9SEf3XU6YpHs-UkgrArdda3Eol07ZBHQDP3gzVzYY_z3Gtm/s320/IMG_1628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389652873788294482" border="0" /></a>Above are some of the typical paramo grasses and below is a crop of quinoa almost ready for harvest.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismHa2TH58MYJRC_4h6giaXlQUWEP-Ta9W9YlT23Ha8hNErjX-05VVkHrrSe9msncSjfuKDQyRXVkJtPg7KzBvENduErgtnrGmudvuNe65XgHy7Y42V89bqWCMVyp1IiNebr6taZt99kAP/s1600-h/IMG_1614.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismHa2TH58MYJRC_4h6giaXlQUWEP-Ta9W9YlT23Ha8hNErjX-05VVkHrrSe9msncSjfuKDQyRXVkJtPg7KzBvENduErgtnrGmudvuNe65XgHy7Y42V89bqWCMVyp1IiNebr6taZt99kAP/s320/IMG_1614.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389651575175047746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjriEEY6FAj0ppkmFFqDgdGtjxJHxTPTrxOFVDaCJ70CfeTgsfxfOcFW2mFwsYhHE20YGY7ybA5wHpy4MCoUbb1RyFbkdHm09ILBkVEz9dncX-ZW9E38x6RHmL2_x_ni9BPFH5pFWvLdExg/s1600-h/IMG_1606.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjriEEY6FAj0ppkmFFqDgdGtjxJHxTPTrxOFVDaCJ70CfeTgsfxfOcFW2mFwsYhHE20YGY7ybA5wHpy4MCoUbb1RyFbkdHm09ILBkVEz9dncX-ZW9E38x6RHmL2_x_ni9BPFH5pFWvLdExg/s320/IMG_1606.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389651562509575394" border="0" /></a><br />Above are some of the many beautiful nightshade flowers that lined the paths, and below is a tree fern about to uncurl. They claimed that these plants are older than the dinosaurs.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEkBAcqco6lnpub1GlhM_Lri2dRHAnGPLYZSFsHBlfP3kiv2-j7aKxMxqAjHXHF6Ld7vF88_Eitu8S45MMI44gZgVDPLMi9EDrHOAQFQjC7K2l3n0UClXSWmsdf7EY1tex96s6zhs3-nc/s1600-h/IMG_1604.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEkBAcqco6lnpub1GlhM_Lri2dRHAnGPLYZSFsHBlfP3kiv2-j7aKxMxqAjHXHF6Ld7vF88_Eitu8S45MMI44gZgVDPLMi9EDrHOAQFQjC7K2l3n0UClXSWmsdf7EY1tex96s6zhs3-nc/s320/IMG_1604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389651556296410130" border="0" /></a>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-38108019446755192302009-10-04T13:34:00.000-07:002009-10-04T14:08:12.474-07:00El PanecilloEl Panecillo is a giant mound (panecillo means "little loaf") in the middle of the capital city topped by a giant statue of the Virgin of Quito standing on an alligator. Or maybe it's an octopus? with a dog head? an eel? It's supposed to be a serpent. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXhO-7PK4_6rAh67nUjJV3WtnbOma6gmL8O1yg5du4BC35BOkRN6Yj8wO3FcjjfmjTyN4mBI8iTfIFKi8Z4TeE-2S8sOGdCZ1_tSb_u0hOonA6IlV7THBlBdP_lahDUmQJvQ5bN_yfJrB/s1600-h/IMG_1408.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXhO-7PK4_6rAh67nUjJV3WtnbOma6gmL8O1yg5du4BC35BOkRN6Yj8wO3FcjjfmjTyN4mBI8iTfIFKi8Z4TeE-2S8sOGdCZ1_tSb_u0hOonA6IlV7THBlBdP_lahDUmQJvQ5bN_yfJrB/s320/IMG_1408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388848237651289634" border="0" /></a><br />The Virgin of Quito is the guardian and protector of the city.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOqbVl-aQLtPLsKKed-rINrNP6nyPuTnIDh9LyrQlohFB_DJfOsbLPgzgvAZ0sN6tZtBp8yCGTOkKluIt_4Q8swgq5moDI21w72zjfq84hz33A_QZPWNxX_JrQ1L-m2GrF36OyYXLf3nS/s1600-h/IMG_1406.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnOqbVl-aQLtPLsKKed-rINrNP6nyPuTnIDh9LyrQlohFB_DJfOsbLPgzgvAZ0sN6tZtBp8yCGTOkKluIt_4Q8swgq5moDI21w72zjfq84hz33A_QZPWNxX_JrQ1L-m2GrF36OyYXLf3nS/s320/IMG_1406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388848224898178194" border="0" /></a>For a small sum, you can go inside the statue, and climb up the stairs out to the top. Each floor inside is decked out like a museum, so you can also check out how the statue was put together (in 1975)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQN4Rvl3oZA5gTBmvHJqDzLfsS2bcsRGxf_4Q2EzG1ZZGUQRAlwWFmR9eevddmYej8W08u8JmpMUShFzGNxPDpo_r8IeZL_TwTeE92eGx48MYFBZKNSZbq8iIzmnUVc-8lfA7OQ7A4u4K/s1600-h/IMG_1438.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQN4Rvl3oZA5gTBmvHJqDzLfsS2bcsRGxf_4Q2EzG1ZZGUQRAlwWFmR9eevddmYej8W08u8JmpMUShFzGNxPDpo_r8IeZL_TwTeE92eGx48MYFBZKNSZbq8iIzmnUVc-8lfA7OQ7A4u4K/s320/IMG_1438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388848246006371874" border="0" /></a>and see some beautiful stain glass windows depicting other guardian saints.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjl4QPAh54IiHagvACdNwluZAGY-FfsVBY0YVazzlUoY51d3T56zwx2bv17RETsvKbIFy3ZMyJ_lVaMxZEY_zL4KhmZWGNIhZephqM2kiHcsPWTM9X9ipKvQa2HzU0Y4Y7UxH74TVKSApE/s1600-h/IMG_1443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjl4QPAh54IiHagvACdNwluZAGY-FfsVBY0YVazzlUoY51d3T56zwx2bv17RETsvKbIFy3ZMyJ_lVaMxZEY_zL4KhmZWGNIhZephqM2kiHcsPWTM9X9ipKvQa2HzU0Y4Y7UxH74TVKSApE/s320/IMG_1443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388848217611548706" border="0" /></a><br />And the view from the top was extraordinary.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm58v_qa7agFZ3gGB7B7AO3viP-qtm0OC9Pkkq8JkMiX9nvke4x37UZugNfB-XlkDxfVUUCgf4X9MBGOEugmJV5aJlApKxu6ijK1CyV2AgCbJ1aSvy8t8JtEd8znzspOMjjMSpfIVCYHy/s1600-h/IMG_1418.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm58v_qa7agFZ3gGB7B7AO3viP-qtm0OC9Pkkq8JkMiX9nvke4x37UZugNfB-XlkDxfVUUCgf4X9MBGOEugmJV5aJlApKxu6ijK1CyV2AgCbJ1aSvy8t8JtEd8znzspOMjjMSpfIVCYHy/s320/IMG_1418.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388851831448595602" border="0" /></a><br />You could see a whole lot of the city!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1h9rxiG3p-4WmES0-ECxcDLys9bV3xXxnBoCN97Pmb915cLBEq6I1laO5XtnkQx0umw0qAEmGVUpdqTlMX9_z9Eq3bXBtto8M9QzoLgmW2xF3aWtlcJeqx_4cINopTys79PsbOvC9RYMh/s1600-h/IMG_1419.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1h9rxiG3p-4WmES0-ECxcDLys9bV3xXxnBoCN97Pmb915cLBEq6I1laO5XtnkQx0umw0qAEmGVUpdqTlMX9_z9Eq3bXBtto8M9QzoLgmW2xF3aWtlcJeqx_4cINopTys79PsbOvC9RYMh/s320/IMG_1419.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388851826697033698" border="0" /></a>Also, you can barely see, in the right-hand corner there are telephone wires and an old burnt tree covered in scraps of colorful cloth. People love to fly kites from up here, and the pretty rags waving about in the wind are actually unlucky remains.Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529785110047282727.post-10081090057432743722009-09-27T15:27:00.000-07:002009-09-27T15:51:25.681-07:00El Pucara De Rumicucho<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvZruaOr170JHDjRUCkUEVMqciOwqOQn6wKwh5Tr1DychUawG18Go0WSs8Urig4-xuncQRTHl3Nh2qGCcA-XDhCA_t8O-JxXDUkWoGOkD8jC8OR-s5ePWuc96hAHGdivPG1rMSF0jMUpI/s1600-h/IMG_1342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvZruaOr170JHDjRUCkUEVMqciOwqOQn6wKwh5Tr1DychUawG18Go0WSs8Urig4-xuncQRTHl3Nh2qGCcA-XDhCA_t8O-JxXDUkWoGOkD8jC8OR-s5ePWuc96hAHGdivPG1rMSF0jMUpI/s320/IMG_1342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386280805951427906" border="0" /></a><br />Incan ruins (possibly on top of pre-Columbian ruins)!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME1U4KqAbGDZ3LpNdR7mU-ox_mK3HVBSCH09QG67xaAiLSPUk8g7B3FyX77AU_dFQZLCiTcmg-ULnW3JXtpIiuxafV7KR8bVhlfhL-58PhgQytBsFuZPOyS7tk62melYZncduUI_BNxTE/s1600-h/IMG_1357.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME1U4KqAbGDZ3LpNdR7mU-ox_mK3HVBSCH09QG67xaAiLSPUk8g7B3FyX77AU_dFQZLCiTcmg-ULnW3JXtpIiuxafV7KR8bVhlfhL-58PhgQytBsFuZPOyS7tk62melYZncduUI_BNxTE/s320/IMG_1357.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386280797178839890" border="0" /></a>(Below) The valley the ruins look out over. We're near La Mitad del Mundo, at the end of Quito's sprawl. Look how dry the area is. Interestingly, there are a lot of acia trees that remind me of the route out to Mombasa in Kenya. Most of the flat fields you can see are corn fields, and all of the houses are cement brick.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSJ-TjbN_r4gVDjKYfykWWWE3kUHK5VFqomiYqcrSrBFJ2vJQC_DGGbl5RGl2uoTnK3TaDtuDQhlvDvoLcauE0CNjOB2Fcurq9cLFvU5hGKBavZu8oNNNJHnCgGuW-LjCjF7JE8vHZjxL/s1600-h/IMG_1344.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSJ-TjbN_r4gVDjKYfykWWWE3kUHK5VFqomiYqcrSrBFJ2vJQC_DGGbl5RGl2uoTnK3TaDtuDQhlvDvoLcauE0CNjOB2Fcurq9cLFvU5hGKBavZu8oNNNJHnCgGuW-LjCjF7JE8vHZjxL/s320/IMG_1344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386278634457934306" border="0" /></a>On top of the walls (that have been restored) there's a lot of pumice stone, which is a volcanic rock that is full of air and weighs next to nothing. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25AuMdw3NbKG2TeNgolJxUY4AfF_eesI0TavAIXPJsi3Y4NYLL7f4BkkoJXrBThzMgAL9KlfSod4P9JByS-IRj7Aq0E_ravLSuY-RxsUm-DIU8vgHzd7kDyf5MHkBpl2s9iYUUlZvuMO_/s1600-h/IMG_1347.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25AuMdw3NbKG2TeNgolJxUY4AfF_eesI0TavAIXPJsi3Y4NYLL7f4BkkoJXrBThzMgAL9KlfSod4P9JByS-IRj7Aq0E_ravLSuY-RxsUm-DIU8vgHzd7kDyf5MHkBpl2s9iYUUlZvuMO_/s320/IMG_1347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386278630886944610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtiXpcguw8ocdaOfNQGjqUlwgJpxeALhyQhEsJu7XeTpJaFwi2PObsWod-mAsKaBqem-7bUOFKB6-VakicNhvD1BwXZwg5J8KINmkL4qnC8GDPMgWM0DqaO51XK0b-1OpogFaK4_LLuHp/s1600-h/IMG_1336.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtiXpcguw8ocdaOfNQGjqUlwgJpxeALhyQhEsJu7XeTpJaFwi2PObsWod-mAsKaBqem-7bUOFKB6-VakicNhvD1BwXZwg5J8KINmkL4qnC8GDPMgWM0DqaO51XK0b-1OpogFaK4_LLuHp/s320/IMG_1336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386278620265627938" border="0" /></a>Nataliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02285001064583334520noreply@blogger.com0