New news: Moving, Festivals and Active Volcanoes

Over the past few weeks we have stayed in Quito but that doesn't mean that we didn't do anything. We decided that our current two bedroom apartment was just too big for us. John noticed that another smaller (1 bedroom) in our complex was currently free, and we decided to take advantage of the opportunity. We moved a whole 37 steps up and slightly over to the right (or left, depending on which way you want to look at it). Our new place features a nice, large, and easily accessible porch, a fire place, and vaulted ceilings. I would say that we are finally settled into the new place and like it very much. It is a bit smaller than we have been used to, but we think this is a good thing because it means that we won't be disappointed or cramped feeling if we have to live in a small place back in the states. Here are some pictures of the new place:

Dining Room/Living Rom

Kitchen

Bedroom

        A couple of weekends ago, the section of Quito we live in had its annual festival.  Know as Fiesta de Guápulo, the event lasts from Friday evening until Monday evening with few breaks in between.  The festival consists of live music, indigenous and Latin American dancing, daily parades, a down hill wooden cart derby,  street food, and large fireworks structures.  Friday night started with a very good professional Salsa band.  It was a welcome change to hear good musicians.   The local bands have not discovered the concept of playing in tune.  On Saturday morning, we woke up to loud bottle rockets starting at 5:30 and then a paraded down to the church.  The exploding rockets continued intermittently outside our window throughout the weekend.  That afternoon, we watched the cart derby.  Only about 15 people had carts, but it was still entertaining.  Later that evening, a parade with people dressed up as clowns, cowboys, and gorillas descended down the streets to the church.  Nobody told the cars coming up the hill that there was a parade coming down, so the participants just had to weave through the stopped, frustrated traffic.  

Oops, Sorry cars, but there's a parade.

The night ended with more loud music and large bamboo towers with fireworks strapped to them.  There is no regard for safety and the people watching get covered in showers of sparks.  We could watch this from the comfort of our living room thankfully.  Here's a YouTube video that shows the craziness.  We didn't take the video, but it give you an idea of what happens.  Turn your volume down first.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ay1m16Q4usw   During the day Sunday, there was more dancing and music.  The big event Sunday was the parade of oranges.  In addition to the usual clowns, cowboys, and gorillas, there were many pickup trucks throwing oranges to the spectators.  Johnny was really looking forward to catching some oranges, but we sadly got the start time wrong.  We saw people catching oranges from our window and realized it was too late for us.  The random bottle rockets and music continued until about 8:30, and then it was more or less over.  From what our neighbors told us, it was the most calm Fiesta de Guápulo ever.  

This past Sunday John and I (and 64 others) went with the climbing group Zona Verde to climb down into the crater of the active volcano Guagua Pichincha (pronounced Waa-waa). It means baby in the native language here. The day started with a 6 am bus ride to the road leading to the refuge. I thought that we were going to get to drive all the way up, but I was sadly mistaken. The buses dropped us off next to some cows on the side of a dirt road. We climbed under a barbed wire fence (how most of my hikes start here) and proceeded to climb straight up for the next two hours. After a small break we continued for about another 45 minutes and finally found ourselves at the refuge. It would have been much easier to drive there. 

Refuge for Guagua Pichincha.

The steep hike down

Climbing down rocks

All too soon we were being shuffled along the uphill path to the ridge that either led to the crater or to the summit. (You can kind of see the trail in the picture: lighter brown and heading away from the top of the building to the left.) Then began the hike down to the crater. There was a sort of path that we followed for some of the time, but really it was just finding your own way and making sure that the rock that you stepped on was sturdy. There were more than a few people that got scared and moved super slowly. I felt bad for John because I am pretty sure that he could have just run down the whole thing and left everyone else in the dust. He was patient and stayed with me and my short legs though. 

Smoke coming out of a vent in the volcano

Unfortunately, even after all of our efforts, neither one of made it all the way to the crater. I turned around about half way though. I had been coping with an intestinal parasite for about a week and the medication I was on made me feel like I was going to puke every other second. Added to the fact that I had not eaten a real meal since Friday afternoon, so I was feeling weak. I knew I had had enough and decided to go back with two others and a guide. John, even though he tried, did not make it all the way. He was forced to turn around with his group. We did get good views of the smoke coming out of the hole and of evidence of eruptions in the past. Some good news is that John was able to pass every other person in the group on the uphill climb and as a result he had enough time to make it to the summit. 

Photo op at the ridge

We then had to walk back down to the buses.  We decided to follow the road this time instead of taking the cow paths that we originally took up. The buses arrived in Quito around 8pm and we were safely home by 8:20. John is already planning his return trip to the crater...

Interesting fact: In America we have the "Happy Birthday" song. Everyone knows it, and everyone sings it the EXACT same way each time. Granted, sometimes a few words are interjected, but the main body of the song remains the same. Not true here in Ecuador. Seems like the song changes, not only words, but tunes and timing too, every single time we sing it. Even the locals comment on how the song is not consistent. As a result we end up singing whichever version the loudest singer of the group decides on for the day and usually the first verse is a jumbled mess.