Backlog #2
Before I detail what happened when I got off the bus, I need to fill in some background information. Ecuador uses the US dollar as currency rather than having their own currency. This makes things easier for tourists, but according to locals who I spoke with on the topic it isn't exactly the happiest arrangement for the rest of the economy. Ecuador does have its own coins, in the same size as US coins but in different metal, including a 50-cent piece.
The capital city of Quito is high in the Andes mountains, while the city of Tena where I was headed is at a much lower altitude. The intervening stretch of road goes through the hilly highlands and down steep canyons and into the high cloud forest. This gradually becomes more and more tropical as the road descends to the Napo river, a tributary to the Amazon.
As best I could figure from what the people on the bus were saying, the turbo or something that sounded like 'turbo' was broken, and so we waited on the side of the road for half an hour for another bus to come by. Everyone piled on, and it was quite crowded for the next hour or two. As people got off at the various stops along the way the bus cleared out, and by the time we got to the cloud forest I had a seat.
The view at this point was fantastic, and if I wasn't so tired from the night before and ill from the bus jostling down the dirt road I'd have taken more pictures. The road wound along a steep cliff face that descended hundreds of feet to a river below and reached up just as high again on the other side. Waterfalls and low clouds broke the solid walls of green intermittently. There were some obvious signs of recent mudslides, but I wasn't paying close attention. I didn't know that Tena was the last stop on the route, so I watched each stop closely, trying to figure out if this was where I needed to step off.
Near the end of the ride the attendant who was helping the passengers unload their bags handed out some sick bags to people on the bus who were getting carsick from the shaking. Fortunately I had packed some industrial-strength medication, or I'd be asking for a bag myself.
When I finally did get to Tena I clumsily got to a taxi, whose driver took me to the wrong place before depositing me at the field school for what I learned later was four times the proper fare. My group was nowhere to be found, and, as I discovered when I asked someone at the school, they wouldn't be there for another two days. There was a group of nursing students at the field school, and I hung out with them for the rest of the day.
I finally met the professor who was in charge of the whole operation on the Tena end that evening at dinner. He was a bit surprised to see me, and he took me out to a hill where there was some semblance of a cell signal so that I could call home and tell my parents I was still alive, 36 hours after I had last spoken with them. The professor was anxious to have me call, because he had been recieving e-mails from my parents, who were desperately trying to contact anyone related to the summer school.
Fortunately that seemed to settle things, and aside from a leak in the thatch above my bed the rest of the day went smoothly. Dinner felt like the best food I'd had in a long time, and in a way it was, because while it may only have been one or two days since I had left Phoenix it felt like I had been traveling for weeks.
The capital city of Quito is high in the Andes mountains, while the city of Tena where I was headed is at a much lower altitude. The intervening stretch of road goes through the hilly highlands and down steep canyons and into the high cloud forest. This gradually becomes more and more tropical as the road descends to the Napo river, a tributary to the Amazon.
As best I could figure from what the people on the bus were saying, the turbo or something that sounded like 'turbo' was broken, and so we waited on the side of the road for half an hour for another bus to come by. Everyone piled on, and it was quite crowded for the next hour or two. As people got off at the various stops along the way the bus cleared out, and by the time we got to the cloud forest I had a seat.
The view at this point was fantastic, and if I wasn't so tired from the night before and ill from the bus jostling down the dirt road I'd have taken more pictures. The road wound along a steep cliff face that descended hundreds of feet to a river below and reached up just as high again on the other side. Waterfalls and low clouds broke the solid walls of green intermittently. There were some obvious signs of recent mudslides, but I wasn't paying close attention. I didn't know that Tena was the last stop on the route, so I watched each stop closely, trying to figure out if this was where I needed to step off.
Near the end of the ride the attendant who was helping the passengers unload their bags handed out some sick bags to people on the bus who were getting carsick from the shaking. Fortunately I had packed some industrial-strength medication, or I'd be asking for a bag myself.
When I finally did get to Tena I clumsily got to a taxi, whose driver took me to the wrong place before depositing me at the field school for what I learned later was four times the proper fare. My group was nowhere to be found, and, as I discovered when I asked someone at the school, they wouldn't be there for another two days. There was a group of nursing students at the field school, and I hung out with them for the rest of the day.
I finally met the professor who was in charge of the whole operation on the Tena end that evening at dinner. He was a bit surprised to see me, and he took me out to a hill where there was some semblance of a cell signal so that I could call home and tell my parents I was still alive, 36 hours after I had last spoken with them. The professor was anxious to have me call, because he had been recieving e-mails from my parents, who were desperately trying to contact anyone related to the summer school.
Fortunately that seemed to settle things, and aside from a leak in the thatch above my bed the rest of the day went smoothly. Dinner felt like the best food I'd had in a long time, and in a way it was, because while it may only have been one or two days since I had left Phoenix it felt like I had been traveling for weeks.
Labels: Ecuador, Quito, Tena Province, Travel Stories
posted by Pablo at 8:39 AM
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