Chillin in Chugchilan

Considering that today was a day off for all of us, and that one of the most exciting parts of it was eating pancakes for breakfast (Sundays are jazz and pancake days here at BSI), I should probably focus more on what happened yesterday. But before I backtrack, I would like for all of you to vicariously meet Paola, Juan Fernando, Israel, and Lucas. They are all of the adorable children of some of the staff here at the inn. Juan Fernando speaks impressive English...and after failing at asking him a few basic questions in Spanish, I just stuck with my muy biens. They taught us a game called Tingo, Tingo, Tango. It is like hot potato, where players pass a ball around in a circle as one person repeatedly says "Tingo."  When the person says "tango," the person with the ball has to do what ever the tango-sayer says. Michelle had to sing I'm a little teapot and Sarah E. got picked so many times that she did everything from singing to running mini time trials. Kevin and I tangoed, and I received a request to sing Shakira. The kids, who are originally from Quito, had no shame, and entertained us by dancing like Michael Jackson and singing some of their nursery rhymes.

Taren, Lisie, Ashwin, Amanda, June, and Kevin in the lodge

Yesterday we went on a 6.5 mile hike from the Zaumbhua Market back to the Black Sheep. The only way that I can really think to describe the landscape to you is to describe it like a big, glamorous cake. Red velvet has been more or less shaped into craggy hills and canyons. A creamy fondant has been carefully patted down around it. Green frosting trees have been piped along the slopes, gingerbread houses are nestled at any place they will not fall down an incline, and licorice cows meander with marshmallow sheep as light rain tops off the confection like sprinkles.

The market is authentic in its lack of authenticity. Many of the items have clearly been made in China. It almost seems as if these people are preserving their culture solely for the tourists, because they seem to buy a lot of imported items. If you ever long to feel like some sort of specialty act, dye your hair blonde and go to South America. If I had a dime for all of the moments I have caught people taking pictures of me...either from afar, or because they were polite enough to ask, I would be rolling in those lovely blue alpaca ponchos.

Quilatoa

Later on that night, after a dinner that included the most wonderful freshly made tortillas and some papaya rum flan, Edmundo, the owner of Black Sheep, opened the doors to a group of local musicians. Three women sang in very nasally and yet somewhat appreciable voices to the strumming of a guitar, a 12 string ukulele like thingy, two wooden flutes, and an enormous drum (played by a very not so enormous drummer). The group offered us some lessons on their culture, so within the next week, I plan on learning how to weave and how to speak a little bit of Quechua (have fun trying to decipher that post hahahaha).

The Ecuadorian Musicians

Tomorrow I have to wake up to help dig a composting toilet, buenas noches!