Last Ecuadorian Days (Vilcabamba, Ecuador)

I am counting down my last days here in Ecuador, it has been almost three months since my arrival to Quito back at the end of November. Unfortunatley my tourist visa runs out after 90 days and the immigration officer jotted down February 27, 2012 on my passport. Didn´t he realize it´s a leap year? I would have loved two more days in this magnificent country, two more days in the lovely town of Vilcambamba where I have just returned to this morning after an over night bus and a 10 hour layover in the city of Guayaquil.  2.5 hours after arriving, Leticia and I headed straight to the meditation centre to get in on the noon sitting... ahhhh... serenity once more.

Let me rewind a week or so though.  So my last day of work at the Secret Garden was on the 15th February. And of course, we had another despedida (goodbye party) but this time for me and Leticia. It often seemed like the volunteers partied way harder than the guests.  We partied so hard there that I can´t even recall at this moment what we did for the despedia, but I do know that Leticia bailed and went to bed early.  Oh, now I remember, we drank and went out to the clubs, well a few clubs and ended up dancing. It wasn´t too extravagent.  The next day after our last free cooked breakfast from our friend Janeth, Leticia and I went out to buy a few goodbye gifts.  As well, we got our commission money from our boss, which was a nice surprise for me.  We had a goodbye lunch that our spanish teacher prepared for us, I had my last spanish class in which my teacher almost made me cry due to her personalized conversations that we often had. There´s nothing better than having a spanish class when it´s combined with just talking freely about life.  And then four of us went to our apartment and packed our bags. As we packed, our fellow volunteer Steph sat on one of the beds and watched us and chatted with us to get in a last few precious moments.  I urged a few to make me secret goodbye videos that I will watch when I return home, and in return I wrote in people´s journals, as if it was the last day of high school.  Eventually the moment came, in which the four of us volunteers who had planned to go to the beach together had to say goodbye to the rest.  It was especially hard to leave behind Romana, the fifth of our group that had all volunteered together the longest. She is still there putting in a few more weeks of work.  Hugs and kisses were had, and a couple tears welled up in my eyes as they have conditioned themselves to do in the last six months of my travels.  Romana walked us down the 5 flights of stairs to see wave us one last goodbye as we drove away in the taxi.  

So, on the 16th of Februrary, exactly 6 months after I left home, and after 6 weeks of working in Quito, I moved on.  This time around, as in comparison to the past, it wasn´t so hard to move on, simply because I wasn´t leaving behind all of my friends.  The four of us, Toni, Marie, Leticia and myself headed off to Puerto Lopez, a small beach town on the pacific coast to celebrate Carnaval.  Carnaval is a huge celebration throughout Latin America and Pto Lopez had it´s own festivities. After a 12 hour overnight bus we arrived with a few hostel mishaps, but eventually found our way to the beach to soak up some much needed sun rays that were lacking in the cold city of Quito.  We all nearly burned the first day, but it was worth it!  And so we just spent 5 nights there, having water fights, throwing water balloons from our balcony onto innocent pedestrians, getting sprayed with mousse on the streets by young kids, dancing in large ballroom like halls with sand on the ground and live Emcee´s entertaining all the Ecuatoriano´s on vacation and the few gringos, eating typical lunches and dinners and barely surviving from our free continental breakfast that included 2 pieces of bread, and walking along the overly crowded beaches, taking photos of the local fishermen and families.  We did a couple sidetrips to the party beach town of Montanita and to the ´mini galapagos island´ or the cheap man´s version of it at least, called Isla de la Plata.  

The four of us had fun, we partied once more, we parted together for the last time. To us, it was more like a vacation, the vibe in the air from Carnaval was lively and reeked of holiday spirit. We had left the big city together for a getaway it seemed. And at the end, yesterday, we all got the same bus to Guayaquil and then had to take seperate buses. We had one last lunch and we shared our favorite memories of one another (my idea of course).  We hugged once more and parted ways.... 

Toni, Marie, Leticia and Dean... Missing Romana :-( 

And so now, it´s just Leticia and myself. My pal eversince Colombia who reconnected with me in Quito. We kid around like we´re an old married couple, but really we get a long quite well. I´m happy to have a constant friend in my travels. I´m in a much different headspace than when I was last here in Vilcabamba. My two hours of meditation today were much clearer than before, I feel refreshed. I feel excited to be in this town that is so familiar to me.  And as we travel from the beach, to the other beach and to here, we bump into past guests that we served at the Secret Garden, calling them out by name.  One I bumped into today, Gunther, said to me, ´I´m in Vilcabamba because you recommended I come here´.  It felt nice to share this special little town with others. Everyone should get a taste of this sacred valley.  Everyone should get a taste of Ecuador and all of it´s ups and downs.  

Thank You Whitney (Quito, Ecuador)

I am not ashamed to say that I have always been a huge fan of Whitney Houston, even after her downfall due to drugs and Bobby Brown. I learned of her passing last night, via facebook and then via google and was automatically saddened. Music has always been a spiritual escape for me, a way for me to find inspiration and joy in various times of my life. It´s interesting how many flashbacks I had last night of my own life and my own memories with Whitney as a backdrop or a soundtrack. 

Quickly, I´d like to share some of these special moments and songs that have been instrumental in my life.  One Moment In Time gave me much strength and inspiration when I was 20 years old, struggling with my own sexuality and with coming out of the closet. I used to listen to the song on a daily basis, telling myself that one day I will have my moment to shine, that I will find the strength to be who I want to be and to live my life where I can be free.  The day I told my familt that I´m gay I went into my bedroom and listened to this song and it brought pure tears of joy streaming uncontrollably down my face, I have never cried like that before.  Thank you Whitney.

The song I Believe In You and Me, has been one of my favorites for a long time, my friend Lillian sang it at her sister´s wedding once, quite beautifully I´d like to add.  As well, when I was maybe 19 or 18 years old, my friend´s brother had committed suicide and I was driving to his house for some prayers. This song was playing in my car, on a blizzardy day of -25 degrees. I had thoughts of Rudson in my head, and as Whitney belted out 'I believe in miracles' something magical or spiritual happened in my car, all the lights had shut out, as if I had blown a fuse, as if Whitney and my thoughts had channeled Rudson´s spirit.  As well, close to the end of my relationship, this song gave me hope that Jeremy and I would be together again, that our love would get us through our hardships, and it did... for another 5 months at least. Thank you Whitney.

As well, My Love Is Your Love, was mine and Jeremy´s song for 12 years. We used to slow dance this song in our house throughout the years together. After our breakup, two days before I left Canada, we danced it one last time, with tears running down our faces.  Thank you Whitney.

This song came out right when I was coming out of the closet, along with Heartbreak Hotel, and the clubs always used to play a dance version which I would rock out to at Boyztown, while I´d be standing upon the speakers thinking I´m cool, proud to be me.  Thank you Whitney.

Me and my girlfriends of many years used to sit around and sing, with a sentimental mood upon our hearts, Count On Me. The song would come to be a constant in my life, and was also played with my friends two days before my leaving Canada, 20 minutes before walking out of my apartment in Marda Loop and moving my belongings into my mother´s house.  Thank you Whitney.

And, again, during my breakup, Whitney´s I Look To You and Try It On My Own once again gave me inspiritation to be me, to find a way to be strong and live my life. Thank you Whitney.

And so now, I am in Ecuador, with no television and crappy wifi at my job.  I am not able to mourn with the millions of fans and viewers as they watch the tributes and the televised funeral.  I am lucky to have friends here who have listened already to my stories, to the soundtrack of my life.  I realize how silly it may sound to mourn over a pop star, but it amazes me how much a musician can affect one´s life.  Rest in Peace Whitney Houston.  You are loved by millions. Thank you for all that you have done in my life, and for what you will continue to do. Your music, your spirit lives on.

The Secret Garden (Quito, Ecuador)

Two thousand eight hundred metres above sea level lies a special, transient, popular, yet anonymous place called the Secret Garden. It´s now been about 5 weeks since I´ve been working at this hostel and it has shed a lot of light on the world of backpacking, the hospitality business, and more on my quest for the knowledge of what journey truly means. 

It´s been an interesting ride thus far.  The way the cycle goes, through my own eyes, is that the experience is an acute one, filled with comraderie and dedication.  In the begininning, at the strike of 2012, there were six of us volunteers working at the Secret Garden, and then there were five come mid January, and then a couple left and couple new ones started and the cycle continues. We are all travellers, looking for a break or a unique experience whilst wandering through Latin America. 

My daily routine for the last five weeks is as follows... I either work the morning shift from 7-3 or the evening from 3-11. Both shifts have their ups and downs. Either way, between 12 and 5 every day, the reception and rooftop terrace is dead. We are all fortunate enough to work amidst a gorgeous view of the city of Quito, taking in the mountain ranges, the layers of buildings, houses, churches, statues, glowing night lights, clouds, fog, rain, sun, etc., that the view has to offer.  In the mornings us volunteers wake up in our apartment about 20 minutes before 7, quickly jump into our clothes, brush our teeth and rush off to work, only one block away. We then serve breakfast, welcome check-ins and administer check-outs until the rush is over at 10:30. Of course you always get the straggling backpackers thinking they can check.out just a little later than stated. In the evening, we serve dinner, make cocktails, strike up a fire in a wheelbarrow that subsitutes as a firepit, and entertain the guests, or just entertain ourselves, often fighting over which volunteer gets to plug in their own ipod into the central speakers.  In my time here, I think I have witnessed at least 5 travellers crying, and coming to us for some sort of reassurance or condolence.  I´ve seen people come back from tragic bus accidents, being robbed on the street of their cameras and credit cards, frustrated with airlines and lost luggages, dealing with illness and diarrehea, and even witnessed a man having a stroke in our computer room as I ran around asking if there was a doctor or a nurse in the hostel.  You really get the insider´s view of what goes on in a traveller´s life. 

As well, you start to learn the gossip of who´s who, within the guests and within the staff and volunteers.  If you settle down long enough, this short little volunteer stint becomes your own life.  There is gossip about who is sleeping with who, who is angry with who, who is not doing their job properly, who is quitting, who is excited about their next adventure in life... etc.  Working with the Ecuadorian staff is also great, I get to practice my spanish (I´m taking classes as well, kinda) and get to know them on a personal level. I just finished a conversation with one of our cooks/cleaners about homosexuality in Ecuador, relationships, and marriage. I consider her one of my friends and I am glad to be able to actually communicate with her on a deeper level rather than your basic, surface level conversation when you´re learning a new language.

On the otherhand, after a while, all the backpackers though all start to look the same, I try to learn everyone´s names and remember their faces, trying to make their stay a memorable one, but I gotta say that each one quickly becomes a faint memory to me once they put on their sacks and walk out the door for the last time.  Every now and then I will meet some backpackers that I will make an effort to get to know, whether it is due to them having a longer stay, or they just seem interesting to me. At times I will just give my polite charm, my customer service attention and no more. It reminds me of my retail days at Chapters when I used to serve customers all the time.  But yes, there are definitley some guests that will have a lasting impression on me, and it once again expresses the hello/goodbye cycle that I have written about on many occasions on this blog.  Some connections are made really quickly and vanish just as fast. 

But the other volunteers... now that´s a different story. We all live in the same apartment, four of us even sharing the same bedroom, we eat, sleep, drink, snore, change our clothes, brush our teeth, share stories, laughter, and even tears together... almost 24/7. When we aren´t working together, we are mostly all hanging out together on the terrace, playing cards or shooting the shit. Most nights, after our 11pm shift is over we all go back to the flat and share a few beers between us, laugh about the day´s mishaps, gossip about certain guests and their silly requests, until those of us that have to wake up at 6:40am finally call it a night.  The comraderie between us is strong, living in such an intense setting we are forced to like each other or suffer. They have all become accustomed to my loud snoring and accept it now, whereas before I would hear about it each morning.  And vice versa, I accept their little annoying habbits.

We only get one day off a week. Some of us will take the day to get out of the city and explore Quito´s outskirts, the little tourist towns, the markets, etc.  I on the other hand try to explore the actual city.  Originally I wanted to do this job so that I could really settle down for a bit and get to know one place, feel that connection. So on my days off I just hang out, at times I´ll just be up on the terrace playing cards, but other days I´ll go out and watch a movie, walk around the city, sit in the parks, grab a coffee, go to the night clubs, etc.  I miss city living I guess.  Some days it´s nice to not be a tourist, it´s nice to try and be a local in this city of 3 million people.  However, I am very far from feeling like a local, perhaps within the confines of the Secret Garden I feel like I am at home, like I´m the shit, but once I step out into the big streets I am still a stranger to this capital city that speaks a different language and lives a different culture. 

At the same time, the language and cultural barrier that exists is often not a barrier at all.  I am starting to discover sayings and phrases in spanish are the exact same in my language.  The gossip and the frustrations that employees have with each other are the same that would be experience in my own country.  And today, when my spanish teacher ran up to me in a panic, with tears in her eyes, looking for a pen and paper, and I asked her in spanish what´s the matter and she explained to me in spanish that her grandmother is in intensive care, my Canadian heart and her Ecuatorian heart connected.  Same same but different, goes the saying in Thailand. 

And so now, I have only 9 days left in Quito, and about 20 days left on my 90 day tourist visa.  Soon enough I will have to once again say goodbye, I´ll be that volunteer that will be leaving as others wish me well and welcome a new volunteer into the comraderie, the solidarity, the intense friendship circle that we have.