Saturday, December 30, 2006

Fri Dec 29 & Sat Dec 30 - From Baños to Tena and back (aka Bus Tour of Ecuador aka Passport Fiasco)




So, the last 24 hours have sucked. Friday morning we used the internet and did some errands until it was time to catch our bus. There is a lot of interesting artwork in Baños, but this painting is our favourite. It hangs on the wall of the internet cafe we used a few times. Very bizarre, especially for a place like Baños, where most people seem highly religious and the Virgin Mary is worshipped like crazy.





After lunch we went to get the bus to Tena, which is in the Oriente (the Ecuadorian name for the Amazon part of the country, in the East). We had planned to go on a jungle trek and maybe stay with an indigenous tribe. Anyway, we discovered that a bus to Tena was ready to leave as we arrived, so we ran for it and got on...only to find that the bus was jam-packed. We hoped to get a seat at some point on the 5 hour ride, but we weren't certain that we would. We were standing next to a boy with a chicken just sitting on his lap...as though that was normal! The bird was well-behaved, except it was shitting all over the floor, which really stunk! There was a dog in the seat behind the chicken, and we kept thinking a fight was going to break out! Anyway, we asked the kid if we could take a photo of the bird, and he said yes. A man standing beside us found it quite funny that we wanted a photo of the bird, so I explained to him that in Canada, there is a strict "No Free-Range Poultry on Public Transport" rule. He was incredulous, as though one could not possibly go about one's daily business without bringing poultry on the bus. Then he went on to tell us that this chicken was a bird that was used in cock fighting, and he was a champion, no less! Now it was our turn to be incredulous. After 1.5 hours of standing (me with a heavy backpack on), we finally got seats. We passed the rest of the bus ride uneventfully, but of course Dave took some great photos from the window of the bus. The scenery here is so beautiful - definitely some of the most beautiful we've ever seen.
We arrived in Tena at around 6 pm and got off to a bit of a crappy start. I had been sleeping on the bus and was disoriented and grumpy when it was time to get off the bus. We tried to get a taxi, but the driver didn't know the name of the hostal we asked him to take us to (which was just a place we found in the guide book). After arguing with this other guy (a bystander who witnessed us trying to get a taxi) who was trying to convince us to go to a different hostal, we finally found another taxi. This driver said he knew where we wanted to go, so we hopped in. Soon, it became apparent that we were headed out of town. I kept asking him if he was sure he knew where the place was, and he insisted that he did and began to get irritated with me for pestering him. Still, we knew something wasn't right. We pulled out the guidebook, located the place we were supposed to be going to on the map, and figured out that it was about 1 km from the bus station (yes, we could have walked, but we didn't realize that before!). We had already gone about 5 km, and now the driver was about to turn down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere! Always thinking the worst of people (you kind of have to have your guard up when you're travelling in a foreign country), I assumed he was driving us to a remote spot where we were going to be robbed/raped/killed. Dave obviously had the same thought, because we both kind of freaked out at the driver at the same time and insisted that he take us back to town. I thrust the map at him and showed him where we wanted to go; I even gave him the address. He kept insisting that we had the wrong address and that he knew where it was located. Finally, I was able to convey that I didn't care if he was right, we wanted to go back into the centre of town NOW. Thank god, he took us back. Turns out that he was right - he stopped to ask two different pedestrians to back up his claim that the only hostal by the name that we requested was out of town, not in town where our guidebook said it should be. They both backed up his claim, and he started giving us a lot of smug, "I told you so, you stupid gringos" attitude. So, we just picked another random place out of the book and he took us there. Ironically, this was the same place that the bystander at the bus station was trying to convince us to go! We checked into the hostal ($12 a night for a room with a private bathroom and hot water), and that's when things went from bad to worse. I couldn't find my passport anywhere. I tore everything apart three times, but no luck. The people who ran the hostal were SO nice. The man called back to Baños for me to ask our last hotel and a few restaurants we had visited if they had found the passport. No such luck, so we headed out to try to get phone numbers for the Canadian Embassy. On our way out, we saw the huge cockroach below...Amazon-sized! The other picture is the great view from the driveway of our hostal.














After finding out some key phone numbers, we decided to go out for supper. We walked through Tena, which was simultaneously run-down and vibrant. It wasn't a picturesque town like Baños or a beautiful colonial city like Cuenca; rather, it was somewhat old and dilapidated. But, the people there seemed fairly young and there seemed to be a lot of bars (especially karaoke bars!) and partying going on. We ate a mediocre meal by the river in a restaurant where we met some nice Americans who were really helpful to me (they gave me info about where to go if I needed help with my passport situation - they had English/Spanish speaking friends who ran a popular white-water rafting agency in town). Then we headed back to the room to sleep.

The next morning (today), Dave worked in the room while I did more passport-related stuff. Given that it's a Saturday, I couldn't get ahold of anyone who was of any real help, and I realized that I would have to wait until Tuesday to resolve anything (everything is closed for the weekend and for New Year's Day). I knew I needed a police report, though, so I asked two cops that I saw walking down the street where the police station was. They asked what I needed it for, so I told them and they nodded knowingly, hailed me a cab, and told the driver where to take me. Turns out this was the Immigration Police. I went in and there were about 6 cops sitting around an empty room in plastic chairs. Not one of them spoke a word of English, and anyone watching me trying to communicate my situation to the group of them while they sat there scratching their heads would have had a good laugh. Actually, the problem wasn't that I couldn't explain my situation to them, the problem was that I couldn't understand a word of what they were saying to me! Finally, I realized that they were sending me to another police station.

I walked a few blocks and found the station quite easily. Again, it was an empty room (save for one small desk in the corner) full of cops sitting around watching a TV. After about half an hour of failed communication attempts (again, no English and my Spanish is horrible), I realized that they weren't going to help me. They said I would have to go back to Baños to file the report, because that was where I lost the passport. I could tell that they really just didn't want to help me because it would take away from their TV watching and because it is hard work trying to talk to someone who doesn't speak your language! (That suspicion was confirmed later).

Back at the hotel (after walking 30 minutes in the sweltering heat and humidity of the Oriente), the owners were so nice to us again. Not only did they give me advice, make long distance calls for me free of charge, and let us check out an hour late, they also gave us a ride to the bus station and didn't charge us. They really were kind people. The photo below is of a Tena side street on the way to the bus station.
We bought tickets to head back to Baños, grabbed a bite to eat, and hopped on the bus at 2 pm. The bus was packed again, but this time our ticket allowed us to sit down. We were at the very front of the bus, where there is a big hump that many people sit on. There was an old woman in a Nike ball cap who was carrying a bag of really pungent herbs - she had the most beautiful smile and the kindest face. There was another woman who was breastfeeding a young child and then there were a couple of other people, too. There were also a lot of luggage at the front of the bus, including some giant bags of rice that had to be set underneath my backpack. A mother with her daughter and son got on the bus and sat behind us. Then, a few minutes later, someone with a ticket got on the bus and the mother and kids lost their seats and had to stand up at the front, where it was already very crowded. The two kids were each eating incredibly ripe, juicy mangos - whole mangos - when they got on the bus. When they lost their seats, each child had a mango skin in one hand and the pit in the other hand, and they were each gnawing at the pit. I'm not kidding when I say that these were the messiest kids I've ever seen. They were covered in mango up to their elbows, and the front of the girl´s shirt was plastered with mango pulp. I thought it was pretty funny, until they leaned on me to get their balance! They then sat on the floor of the bus, right up against my leg (see photo below - my leg is the one with the green pants). Next thing I knew, the boy was trying to get rid of his mango pit, but no one would take it from him. So, I took it and threw it out the window of the bus. Of course, then the girl handed me her mango skin, and then her pit moments later. Then I reached into my bag and pulled out some napkins to give to the kids. Of course, they gave me that garbage too, which I wasn't about to throw out the window, so I ended up putting their grubby mango napkin in my bag. Well, after that I was their friend for life. Not long thereafter, the girl was sitting on my lap and the boy was hanging off my leg. Dave, who is slightly germophobic and thinks even clean children are dirty, was shaking his head at me in disbelief.

Dave still has a lot of work to do, so he had pulled out the ol´ laptop once again and was typing away. The kids were in complete awe of his laptop, although Dave is convinced that what they were really interested in was his research. They kept trying to touch his screen and keyboard with their sticky mango hands, and Dave was freaking out. Dave is someone who uses hand sanitizer before using his keyboard because he doesn't want it to get...I dunno, germy? Dirty? He also worries about things like dust getting on his laptop. So, when the sticky, filthy, kid hands were reaching for his keys and monitor, he didn´t know what to do. He just kept waving his hands in frong of the monitor in despair and saying in a tense, high-pitched voice, "No touchy touchy!" (See photo to the left with Dave´s waving hand and the little girl's head) Of course, I found this absolutely hilarious, and my laughter was egging the kids on a bit. Poor Dave did end up getting some mango juice on his monitor, but nothing serious. After the tension of the previous evening and morning (trying to figure out passport stuff and where to go next, having to miss out on our much-anticipated Amazon trek, etc.), I think we were both happy that these two cute kids had brought some levity to our day, even at the cost of my clothes and his monitor getting a little grubby.
It was a fun bus ride and the 4.5 hours to Baños passed pretty quickly. Of course, there was beautiful scenery to look at (see photos). We even caught a glimpse of the elusive Volcan Tungurahua, which is still active and last erupted in 1999 (second scenery photo). Once in Baños, I retraced my steps and went to all the places I had been, to no avail. I headed to the police station to file my report, and again, no luck. This time it was a very kind solo cop. Of course, we had the usual communication difficulties that arise when two people don't speak the same language, but between his 20 words of English and my 20 words of Spanish (and some drawings and charades), we managed to understand each other. Turns out he could only help me if my passport was stolen, but because it was lost, he can't file a report. I have to go to the capital city (Quito) on Tuesday to some other office to file the report, which is fine since I'll be there to talk to the embassy anyway.

Tonight we ate a nice meal, found a new hotel in Baños, and tomorrow we are heading to Quito bright & early. Tonight in Baños, there is some kind of event going on where some of the kids are dressed up in masks and even costumes (see below) and are trying to scare people. Not sure what that's all about, but we suspect it has something to do with New Year's Eve. Anyway, we're going to spend a couple of days in Quito and see what happens on Tuesday with my passport stuff. Wish me luck, everyone!

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