Tena

There are many times I have been closer to death than this weekend. Walking among criminals in Quito, hiking among grizzly bears in Montana, swimming among sharks in Florida are just a few instances in which I was probably in more danger. I know that. However, our perceptions often do not reflect our reality. And this weekend certainly felt like one of the most dangerous of my life.
This weekend, I and a handful of friends went to Tena, a small town just inside the Amazon, to go rafting. My friend Kelly is big into rafting, and she had been telling us how she wanted to go for so long, so she organized a trip, negotiated a low price for us, and recruited those people who were interested. In the end it ended up being myself, her, and our friends Karen and David, and our Swiss friend Daniel. So on Friday afternoon we packed our bags, met in front of La Catolica, and made our way to the bus station. The bus ride to Tena was not especially comfortable (bus rides in Ecuador seldom are) but we arrived in good time.
I had forgotten how uncomfortable the climate was in the Amazon. The climates in the Ecuadorian mainland’s three main regions are all starkly different. The coast is dry and blazing hot, the sierra is dry and cool (though nowhere close to cold), and the Amazon is incredibly humid, heavy, and very warm. Though not the blazing heat of the coast, you still sweat all the time, and a shower does little to help.
When arrived we were greeted by Diego, the person with whom Kelly had been corresponding to coordinate the trip. He took us in his truck to our hostel, at which they had pre-arranged rooms, and was located next door to the rafting center. We were shown to our rooms, girls in one room, guys in another. We went out for a beer and a bite to eat, and then returned to sleep. This can be difficult to do in the Amazon because of the extremely hot humidity that permeates everything. However, we all slept as close to naked as possible on top of the covers, with the fan on full power.
It rained all night, as it often does in the rainforest, and the next morning the rain had brought the temperature down considerably, to a nice feel. We gathered and went downstairs for breakfast. We knew we would be rafting with others, so while we sat and waited for our food, we kept an eye out for other potential rafters. Four American girls sat at another table, who we later found out were rafting with us, and two other people, a guy and a girl, approached us where we were sitting.
“I suppose this is the table for the people who are rafting,” he said with a bit of an accent. We said yes, and invited them to sit. As we learned, they were both from Israel—Benjamin and Inbam were their names. They were incredibly interesting people. They had both served in the Israeli military (as all Israelis must do) and now were traveling all around South America. They had been to Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, and they were finishing in Colombia. They were both very nice, and speaking to them about life in Israel and their opinions on the global affairs that affected their nation was enlightening to say the least.
After breakfast we met our rafting guides, loaded into trucks with the equipment, and drove out to where our rafting would begin. When we arrived, we were given life jackets, helmets, and a safety talk that definitely had us asking ourselves what we had gotten ourselves into. We had two guides, one named Daniel, and another named Danny. I will try to keep these two and our Swiss friend Daniel all straight.
Daniel (the guide) told us about the various things we needed to do to stay safe on the river. He said that if the raft tips, try to grab onto the rope on the side. If you can’t and are floating freely, lay on your back with your legs bent in front of you to protect against rocks, and breathe. There were two things to look out for in the water: washing machines and whirlpools. Washing machines succeeded rocks, and were the points where the water was forced down, spun like a washing machine, and then came up. If we were caught in one we were told to get into the fetal position and let the washing machine spit us out rather than fight it. Whirlpools were, well, whirlpools. If caught in one, we were supposed to just let ourselves get sucked in and spit out downriver. For safety, Diego was in a kayak, and could come pick us up and drag us back to the raft. Diego was a kayaking professional, and never had any trouble on the river. He would accompany us the whole way.
We split into two groups: the four American girls and two Israelis in one raft, the five of us in another. We were with Danny; they were with Daniel. In our raft we also had Diego’s nephew, Ryan, who was around eight or nine years old, and became a fast friend of mine. The rafting went easily at first. We went over some small rapids, and some nice calm patches. We all began to get the feel for the oars and the commands. Everything seemed to be going well. Then we came to one patch that was especially rough.
We began the rafting, going over rapids, until we hit one particularly big wave, and took it sideways. To our horror, the raft flipped upside down, throwing us all into the water with it. I fought to get out from under it, and popped up quickly on the other side. I positioned myself as we were told, but quickly found myself going over some rapids solo. Ryan and David were also with me. The others had managed to get back into the raft. As I went downriver I plucked two oars out of the water, and David had managed to grab an oar himself. We went over a rock or two, and then Diego arrived in his kayak. David grabbed one side, I grabbed the other, and then I reached an oar out to Ryan, calling for him to grab it. We were not out of the rapids yet. We continued down the river, grasping in my left hand an oar that Ryan was clinging to, and in my right hand both another oar and the handle on the kayak that was keeping me somewhat safe. Diego fought to keep us all away from rocks and above water. The ride was rough and difficult, but we finally made it out of the rapids and were able to rejoin the raft.
Our raft did not flip for the rest of the trip. Whenever we came to something that looked like it could flip us, Danny yelled for us to jump inside the raft. By centering the weight within, we escaped flipping. The other raft was not so lucky however. They flipped three more times. The first time they and their oars scatted. We gathered their oars, and even one of their girls. I saw Benjamin drag two girls out of the water by himself. Once we exited that set of rapids, we returned them their oars and their final person. They flipped twice more, but showed increasing skill at scrambling back into the raft.
The day was very fun, and they views were absolutely gorgeous. There are few things in this world as beautiful as the Amazon, and seeing it from a river is incredible. The American girls were unfortunately leaving that night for Quito, but the Israelis were staying for the next day to raft with us again.
That night we all went with Diego back to his house, were we made a small fire and showed him and the Israelis a great American tradition: smores. David and I headed up the smores project. I had brought marshmallows, he had brought chocolate, and the girls had brought crackers (there are no graham crackers in Ecuador that we have found). With that, we showed them the beauty of smores. That night, with a stomach full of smores and muscles aching from the intense rowing, I slept excellently.
The next day was more difficult. The first day had been class 3+ rapids. The next day was class 4+ rapids. Inbal decided not to raft, so it was the five of us and Benjamin, this time with the guide Daniel, rather than Danny. Diego was our safety kayaker once again. We took the river at the beginning, and it was easy, but our plan was to take it to the Misahualli River, which would have the stronger rapids. Indeed the first river was easy, and beautiful. But when we reached the Misahualli, it became much rougher. The first couple of rapids we made easily. But on our first class 4, the raft flipped. We all were scattered, as were the paddles. David, Karen, and I got stuck in front of a washing machine, though not in it, so we swam with all our strength to get away from it. Kelly was not so lucky. She got stuck in one and was under the water for quite a while before popping back out. However, we all got back into the raft and went off again.
However, it was not long before we flipped again. We came to a long stretch of class 4 rapids, and began to take them. We did well at first, but came to a big wave. We hit it hard, and the boat flipped. As it went, I grabbed the side rope, so I remained near the raft. As soon as my head broke water I heard shouting. The guide was climbing on top of the raft to flip it upright while shouting at everyone to get to the left. David and Karen broke for the left. I, not understanding what he was saying, stuck with the raft. He flipped it and jumped in. The danger was we were quickly coming up on some fast and dangerous rapids, and being in the water was not a good idea.
The guide Daniel, our friend Daniel, Kelly and Benjamin had all managed to jump back in, but I was struggling. Just before we hit the rapids, Benjamin reached down, took me by the life jacket, and hauled me into the raft. And just in time. We huddled in the raft as the currents batted us around like a pinball. All I could hear were the rapids and the guide yelling at us to stay in the raft. Suddenly he yelled at us to row. We grabbed oars and began rowing for our lives. We finally reached an easy place and rowed to the side. We were missing Karen and David.
Suddenly, Diego emerged from the rapids on his kayak, towing Karen behind him. He brought her over to us and we pulled her in. She apparently had taken many of the rapids by herself, and had not had fun doing it. But we were still missing David. We rowed upstream a bit, and the guide got out to look for him. All of a sudden, we saw him on the bank of the river on the opposite side. We had been most afraid for him, but he had fared the best of us all. We rowed over, picked him up, and prepared for the next set of rapids, which were immediately before us.
We flipped once more, but were much faster at pulling ourselves back into the raft. After the third time the guide realized what our problem was. He told us if it seemed like we were going to flip we should lean forward to throw our weight to the front of the boat, and we would increase our chances of clearing it. We quickly had a chance to test this out on a string of long class 4 rapids called paranoia. Paranoia was difficult, but we employed his strategy, and effectively cleared them without flipping.
After paranoia, we rowed to the side of the river. The next set of rapids was called Casanova, and was class 6. We could not raft them. So instead, the guides tied the raft to a rope and walked along the side, dragging the raft through the difficult rapids. We had to hike up into the forest and around a cliff side to reach the place where we would get back in. Here was the problem with Casanova: while we skipped most of it, there was one big rapid we still would have to clear in the raft, and flipping was a bad idea because further downriver, before Casanova ended completely, was an incredibly powerful washing machine, one that might now spit you out, or might actually just hold you under the water with the force of the water pressure. That meant if we fell our we would either have to hold desperately to the raft and hope, or make a break for the side and try to hold ourselves there until we could be rescued. Neither was an incredibly appealing option.
We were all incredibly nervous as we slowly boarded the raft. The guide gave us the instructions: we would have to row incredibly hard, and just as we hit the wave, we would have to all get in the raft to try to keep it from flipping. My heart was pounding and my adrenaline was pumping harder that in had yet. We pushed off and began to row. The first challenge was going over the rapid in the right place. If we went over in the wrong place we would smash against some rocks. We came to the right rapid, and here was the hard part. The guide yelled at us to row forward, as the rapid got louder and louder. “In!” he finally yelled. We all jumped in the raft, and hoped.
The raft smashed into the wave, turning up the nose. My heart leapt and I prepared to grab the rope on the side of the boat for our overturning. But, the nose fell back, and the raft was pushed over the wave, staying righted. “Forward!” the guide yelled, and we all scrambled back to our positions, rowing as hard as we possibly could. We cleared the final small rapid, and had reached calm waters.
We all cheered at having cleared the rapid, and breathed a sigh of relief. From then on the rapids were not as bad, and we never overturned again. We finally ended our journey at the port of Misahualli, which ironically enough was the same place we had begun our first journey in the Amazon in February. Then, I had come down to the bank of the river to look at the river. Now I was riding up to the town on the river, and the people on the bank were watching me. We arrived, dragged the boat up, and after eating a hearty and much needed meal, returned to Tena.
The weekend was incredibly fun, though terrifying at times. Our guides were very excellent, and we made some new friends from Israel. This will very possibly be the last big trip I take in Ecuador, and if it is, it will have been one of the greatest, and certainly the most extreme. Not only will it stand out as one of the greatest times in Ecuador, it will stand out forever as one of the greatest adventures in my life.

Cotopaxi

When I first arrived in Ecuador, I heard from many people, both Americans who had visited Ecuador and Ecuadorians, that one of the things I absolutely needed to do was visit the volcano of Cotopaxi. Cotopaxi is the tallest active volcano in Ecuador, and the second tallest volcano, next to Chimborazo. So, some friends and I decided to take a day trip and visit on Saturday.

We went with a general idea of how we would get there, but we really planned little for the actual trip. We decided in advance that we would meet in front of La Catolica, our university, at an incredibly early seven in the morning. It sounded like a good idea on Friday, but on Saturday morning when my alarm went of at six a.m., I felt differently. After eating and packing my bag with two different jackets, I headed off. Those of us who were going were: me, my friends Kelly and Karen, with whom I do most of my traveling, my friends Liz and Emily, and a Swiss guy named Daniel who we had met on Thursday. Once we were all together, we headed off in the direction of the bus called the Trole. The Trole ride was about an hour, and we had to switch buses at one point, but it was fun. I, in my usual self, broke into song, immediately separating the morning people, who found it fun and amusing, from those who are definitely not morning people. Example: Karen joined me in a chorus of "Ring of Fire", while Emily, embarrassed, asked me to stop drawing attention to us.

We arrived at the Quitumbre station, and hopped on a bus to Latacunga, which is just a half-hour south of Cotopaxi. We told the bus driver that we wanted to stop in front of the Cotopaxi national park, and so when we reached it, he dropped us off on the side of the road. In the park, we were met by a man with a truck who told us for ten dollars a person he would drive us to the foot of the volcano, wait for us to climb, and then drive us back. We accepted, and rode in the back of his truck on the long ride to the foot of the volcano. Once there, we climbed up to the first refuge on the mountain. The climb, as most climbs are, was a struggle, especially at first, but we finally reached the refuge. From there, after resting, we went on to the enormous glacier that covers the top of the volcano.

On the mountain, we ran into many Europeans, and a couple of Texans, from Houston, who were in Ecuador for the weekend for a little climbing. It's always nice to speak to Americans. It was extra nice to speak to Texans. I got an update on my home state, accompanied by a twinge of nostalgia. Afterwards, we headed back down the mountain, a significantly easier leg of the overall climb. At the bottom we met our driver and talked to him about our climb. He told us a few interesting facts about Cotopaxi, and then turned and pointed up to the mountain. "You see on the mountain how towards the bottom the ground is black?" he asked in spanish. Yes, we replied. "Above that is red ground, and above that is the glacier." He was right. In between the glacier and the normally colored blackish brown soil was a swath of maroon soil. "That," he told us, "is where, twenty years ago, the glacier was." The glacier has been receding for the past twenty years at an alarming rate, due to the warming global climate, and the red ground marked where it had once been.

We drove next to a lagoon in the park to take some pictures, and after to a museum. I say museum, but that word is a bit of a stretch. It was more like a couple of room with pictures and information of the mountain. But still, it was free. Finally, we drove back to the road. There, we flagged down a bus headed to Quito (this is common practice in Ecuador) and for a dollar got a ride back.

The next day I realized that after climbing the mountain, I had gotten a light sunburn on the back of my neck and on my face. I had not even thought about sunscreen because it was cold on the top of the mountain, but in truth the atmosphere was thin and the sun was on me most of the time, so it makes sense. But later, my ecuamadre pointed out the irony that I had spent five days in the Galapagos islands without getting burned, and then one day on a cold mountain, and I did.

Las Islas Galápagos

One of the few places on earth untouched by pre-industrial man. The site of one of humanity's most significant scientific advancements. A land lying directly on the Equator, representing a diverse palette of life found all over the world. The Galapagos Islands. Ecuador commonly is divided into four pieces: the Amazon, the Sierra, which is all the land that lies in the Andean Mountains, and the Coast. But often a fourth piece is added: The Galapagos. It is a popular, yet scarcely visited tourist destination due to the enormously high costs of traveling there and the strict regulations placed on the islands to preserve its natural beauty. So the fact that I had the opportunity to visit is an incredible blessing that I will probably never have again.

On our first day, Holy Thursday, I woke up early and, thanks to the graciousness of my ecuapadre, was driven to the airport early in the morning. We all met, bags in hand, went through security, and boarded the plane. The plane ride was very comfortable, and we acted fairly ridiculous. The plane made a forty-five minute stop in Guayaquil to unload some passengers, and take on a few. During our recess, some of us contemplated playing hide and go seek on the plane (though not seriously) but ultimately rejected the idea. The ride to the islands themselves lasted about an hour and a half, and we finally landed on the tiny island of Baltra, which is just north of Santa Cruz.

As soon as we stepped off the plane, we were hit by a wave of heat that we would then be enduring for the rest of the trip. We waited in line to go through the security check. Afterwards, we grabbed our bags, and met our guides for the first time. All travelers to the Galapagos are required to be accompanied by a guide, both for the security of the tourists, and the protection of the environment. Ours were a tall, skinny man named Ramiro, and a shorter, stouter man named Humberto. They would come to play a very important role in our Galapagos adventure.

Next, we boarded a boat to go to Santa Cruz. The distance was so short between the islands that you could see the other side, but during our very short boat ride we saw some pelicans, and two sea lions, the first of many that we would see during our trip. Once we reached the other side, we got off, and got on a bus to our hotel. We dropped our bags, and went to dinner. Afterwards, we took a bus to a place called Los Gemelos, which is Spanish for the twins. The twins were twin craters in the ground, which were enormous and beautiful. We hiked around, and ended at a swamp. We tried to find tortoises, but could not, so we returned to the hotel. That night, a group of us walked to a karaoke bar, where a group of Ecuadorians was singing, and not well I might add. We wrested the microphone from them, and sang some songs of our own. We traded back and forth for a while, and our English songs attracted the attention of some elderly female American tourist. For our grand finale, we sang “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion, and all the American women joined in. Needless to say, it was epic display of gringo grandiosity.

Despite the hard bed and hot room, I slept like a rock. The next morning we woke early and ate breakfast. Everyone filled their water bottles, purchased medicine for seasickness, as we would be taking a boat ride later that day, and we were off to the famous Charles Darwin Research Station. At the station, we split into two groups, which would be our groups for the rest of the trip. My group was with Humberto, and was named Los Piqueros de Patas Azules, after a famous bird from the Galapagos. The other group, whose guide was Ramiro, was named Los Piqueros de Patas Rojas, which is another famous bird endemic to the Galapagos. On our tour we saw many different kinds of plants, and more interestingly, many different tortoises, including the famous Lonesome George, an iconic turtle who is the last of his species. We saw tortoises up close, tortoises mating, and land iguanas. It was at this time that everyone came to the realization; Los Piqueros de Patas Azules was definitely the better group.

Next, we headed back to the hotel to grab our bags, and then to the dock to board the boats. Each group boarded a different boat, and we were off. The waves were choppy and the boat bounced quite a bit. I had taken the seasickness medicine beforehand, but I felt sick anyway. I found that if I lay down on the floor of the boat, the urge to vomit was not quite as powerful, so I took a nap on the floor of the boat. Finally, after an hour and a half, we arrived at our next island: Isabela. We felt like champions as we chugged into the bay of Isabela in waters that were full of sea lions, small sharks, fish, and various rays. The water was clear as crystal, and we felt like we were in paradise. We got off, boarded a bus, and went to our hotel. We changed into swimsuits, put on our sunscreen, and went for a walk. We explored a part of the town, and ended at the beach, where all of us, the students, the guides, and the program directors, all plunged into the cool water. Many of us in our excitement took up a chorus of Journey's “Don't Stop Believing”, changing some key words to fit our location. We got out, and followed our guides to an underwater Mangrove, where we dove in again to explore. When the sun was setting we got out and headed back to the hotel. After dinner, we were free, and naturally, we went looking for ice cream. We made a visit to the beach and then returned to the hotel for another wonderful sleep.

We rose early again the next morning for breakfast and then changed into hiking clothes. Before I go on, let me describe the island of Isabela a little bit. It is the biggest island in Galapagos. The Galapagos were formed from volcanoes, and where most of them have one volcano, Isabela has five, and the most southern volcano has the second biggest crater in the world. We drove to the foot of a trail on this volcano and from there; we began our hike up to the crater. The day began very hot, but cooled as clouds rolled in. We reached the top of the crater, and could see down into the old volcano, which was covered by volcanic rock and green growth. From there, we hiked around the crater, stopping for lunch at some benches, until we reached the opposite side. Then, we crossed a field of volcanic rock, the site of an old eruption, which was covered in black rock and cactus. We finally stopped at a crest in the mountain, where we overlooked a beautiful view. After taking some pictures, we turned and went back.

We were exhausted, but the day was only half over. On the bus ride back, a group of us (that may or may not have been led by myself) treated the island of Isabela to a full spread of jubilant American songs ranging from “A Whole New World” to “Take Me Home Country Roads” to “Ring of Fire”. We returned to the hotel, applied second layers of sunscreen, changed into bathing suits, and prepared for snorkeling. We each received a mask and pair of flippers, boarded a bus, and drove to the docks. There, we divided into our groups and boarded boats which took us out into a bay. And there, we dove in. The water was filled with absolutely beautiful, and plentiful, fish. There were fish of all different colors. Partway through our swim people started exclaiming about a sea lion that they had seen swimming around. Occasionally I would hear someone shriek in excitement as they declared that they too had seen it. The sea lion in question finally came up to a small beach area, where we all gathered to watch him play. At one point during our swim, one of our guides declared he was going to look for sea turtles, and swam off. In a short time, he began calling to us. I was one of the first to reach him. He had indeed found a turtle, and I came upon it quite suddenly gliding through the water. The animal was beautiful. It swam slowly and gracefully. It controlled where it went with slow beats of its flippers, but also let the waves carry it if they came in. The animal appeared as if it were flying. It was very calm, and made no reaction when I swam up beside it.

Soon the turtle had led us all far out in the bay, and the sun was beginning to set. Our guide told us we should begin heading back, so we began to the swim back to the boats. That night we ate, and I went for a walk with some friends to the beach where we stayed until nearly midnight looking at the incredible display of stars over the ocean.

The next day was the fourth day, Easter, and we were all very happy. Maybe there were divine graces surrounding us, or maybe we were growing so tired from all the activity without proper rest that it was beginning to make us crazy. Whatever the reason, we were all in a good place. After breakfast, we gathered our stuff, including our snorkeling equipment, returned to the docks, and boarded our boats in our respective groups. This boat ride, I chose not to take my seasickness medicine. I felt the same as I had before, so I spent the majority of the boat ride on my back, keeping my stomach from giving the ocean my breakfast.

After about two hours we arrived at our destination: the island of Floreana.
When we arrived, there was a blanket of clouds covering the sky. We waited on the boat until our ride arrived on shore. We got off, leaving our luggage on the boat, and took only what we needed. We got into the back of a pickup truck, which proceeded to drive us to the hiking trail we were going to. On the way, it began to rain, and we sang songs the entire way, slowly getting soaked. A bus full of Ecuadorians came up behind us, laughing and taking pictures of the truck full of gringos singing “Baby Got Back”.

When we arrived at the trail, we were soaked. We set off, encountering giant tortoises, man-made caves, and a big statue of a face made by pirates years ago. Afterwards, we went back, got back into the truck, and returned to the dock. We got back in our boat, which took us out to a bay in Floreana. We met our friends there, and had another round of snorkeling. I spent about half the time swimming, and the other half on a small beach watching two sea lions play with one another. Finally, it was time to go, and we all returned to our boats. This was the one island we were not spending the night on. Instead, we were off to our final destination: San Cristobal.

On this boat ride, I tried a new tactic. The captain, for whatever reason, decided to be far laxer with the rules on this final trip. The boat had a back area to sit in, but the front was sloped, and not meant for people. Nevertheless, he let some girls lie down on the sloped front, and let me sit at the nose. The boat was very bumpy, and more than once my butt came off the boat itself. I gripped the rail in front to keep myself from flying off into the sea, and enjoyed the combination of the beautiful view and the wind on my face. And I found if I sat in the front of the boat, I didn’t feel seasick.

During the boat ride, the captain saw something, and stopped the boat. We all looked out to see what he had seen, and saw a huge spout of water come shooting up from the surface of the ocean. It was a whale! More than once he surfaced for air, and we saw the length of his backside. Finally, he disappeared altogether, but it didn’t matter. We had seen a whale, and that was enough for us.

The second half of the boat ride was wonderful. I could see the silhouette of San Cristobal in the distance, and watched, as it slowly grew closer. At my back was the sunset, which was a beautiful one. Finally we reached San Cristobal and drew into port. The port town was gorgeous, and was my favorite of all the ones we had been to. We took a taxi to the hotel, where we dropped our stuff. We had an hour until dinner, so I went walking around, and came to a playground on the beach, where nearly a hundred sea lions had come ashore to rest. I passed the time talking to people and watching the sea lions until it was time for dinner. After dinner, we walked down the pier, and got ice cream. We considered staying out for longer, but everyone was so exhausted, that we just returned to the hotel to sleep.

The next day was the final day. We took a bus to a trail, where we hiked through forest and mist until we reached a huge lagoon. After admiring it for a while, and taking some pictures, we returned to go to a museum. This was the one part of the trip that no one really wanted to do. Most people felt like going to a museum was a waste of our precious time left in the Galapagos. Thankfully, the museum was closed. So instead we walked down to the beach for some independent exploring. After we had spent the remainder of our time, we got back in our bus, and drove to the airport. We bid farewell to our guides, and boarded our flight. As we took off, we said goodbye to the beautiful islands that we would probably never again have the privilege of visiting.

The trip was incredible, and by far the best one I have taken here in Ecuador. But it was significant for another reason as well. Because for all of us, our trip to the Galapagos was that highlight of our time in Ecuador that was far away, that was near the end. It was always something standing between us and leaving the country. Now that it has passed, we are all realizing how little time we have left in Ecuador, and how close we are to returning home.