Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Gasping for oxygen in Quito

Hello, folks. I'm in Quito, Ecuador, a city of more than a million people, way up in the stratosphere, surrounded by mountains.

The mountain in the background, directly west of the city, is Pichincha, very close. Pichincha is very big here in Quito. You can get your money from Pichincha bank, eat Pichincha pizza, get a Pichincha haircut.



This mountain, Cotopaxi, is just south of Quito. It last erupted in 1877 and it is currently emitting gas, so the mountain and I have something in common. (That we don't erupt very often. What were you thinking?)

I've been in Ecuador for a little less than a month now, and I've not adjusted to the elevation yet. I wonder if I ever will... Quito, Equador is some 9200 feet above sea level, about one and 3/4 miles up in the air. For comparison, Northstar-at-Tahoe peaks out at 8610 feet, Diamond Peak, 8540. In the Tahoe region, only the tippy-top of Heavenly is higher than my sixth-floor apartment in midtown Quito.

So the act of just sitting around takes more air sometimes than seems to be available. It's a weird feeling, not being able to breathe all you want to breathe. I fight down the panic, I breathe deep, I survive.

Strangely enough, walking around, getting mild exercise, not so much a problem. More strenuous exercise, however, and you feel like you're gonna die. I live on the seventh floor of a condo, and sometimes I go up the stairs just to see how long it takes me to breathe normally after.

I live at a place called Spanish Immersion House, which is in reality a nice two-bedroom apartment with a Spanish teacher/entrepreneur named Ceci. She runs three businesses as well as cooking every day. Makes her own soy milk, the best stuff I've ever tasted.

The "Spanish immersion" part of the deal is that she speaks to me in Spanish, then I respond in such poor, mangled Spanish that she finally gives up and uses English to get her point across. It's a great program!

I went to a five or six Spanish language schools here in Quito, looking for a good place to learn. For whatever reasons, I think cheap labor among them, they only offer one-on-one classes. Just imagine, four hours a day of direct, unrelenting lessons from about three feet away. Nowhere to hide, no relief as the teacher picks on other students, no escape from the steady, intense, and frequently disappointed gaze of El Profesor. Maybe better for your Spanish, but hard on the psyche!

I like group lessons, not just for the opportunity for some slack in the classroom, but also a chance to meet and hang with other expats. Back in Guadalajara, there was a big group of expats at the IMAC Language School, and we'd go to lunch or sightseeing or free concerts throughout the city. At the end of the third week at IMAC, my roommate and I hosted 16 students and friends at a lunch at my apartment in Guadalajara.

But here, there is not the opportunity to rub shoulders with expats or others, and I walk alone for the most part.

Well, not totally alone. One of Ceci's businesses is a facility for children without means, in an economically challenged neighborhood of Quito. I moved here with two weeks to go in their summer school program, and I got a chance to volunteer at a couple of events.

This first photo is of a bunch of us on the way to the Quito Zoo. The second photo is one of the zoo population taking a snack break. We counted the children over and over that day...


I'll be in Quito for a few more weeks, if not longer.

I'm finished with the 300 or so essays for my masters' degree, by the way. I have only the thesis project, a green business plan, to go. Currently researching a business idea I've tentatively names Hydrogen for the Home, but I'm a bit out of my element. (Really, no pun intended.)

More later!

What happened to July?

In our last installment, you may recall that our hero was planning his escape from Nara Visa, New Mexico: a barren wasteland, yet free rent...

Sorry for the dead silence for the last month. I kinda lost my groove there in New Mexico. And then here in Ecuador (real time), I've had some difficulty having a consistent Internet connection...

As July began, I got the hell out of the charmless little town of Nara Visa.

Bye bye, horsie neighbors!

Bye bye, wildfires from 400 miles away blotting out the sun!

I turned the bike east and north. I told her to seek higher ground, not to stop until the temperature dropped to the 70s.


I ended up in Eagle Nest, New Mexico, named more for its high elevation rather than any capacity for cradling eagle eggs. It rained that first afternoon. I got off the bike, took off my helmet, and turned my face to the sky, raindrops mixing with tears of joy.

No shit.


Hello, cool pines!

I stayed in alpine country for the next few weeks, Eagle Nest, Red Rock, Taos in north central New Mexico, and Pagosa Springs in southern Colorado. I hiked the mountains of the continental divide in Colorado, I soaked in sulfer hot springs, I left my environmental studies and the notes from Phil's book in my saddlebags for most of the month...

Of course, I couldn't get away from environmental degradation. I had to plan carefully to avoid the record-setting New Mexico wildfires, and later, the record-setting Arizona wildfires.




Looking closely at the New Mexico forest, you can see how many trees are dying - this from the western pine beetle. Warmer temperatures have extended its range dramatically. I was told by a forest ranger that New Mexico has lost 85% of its pinon tree in the last two years. Soon they will have to choose a new state tree.

Then up on top of the Continental Divide in Colorado:

There was no escape from the nasty wildfire smoke coming up from New Mexico...








Then Albuquerque, a pretty cool city, to repair my sandals, find a Sprint store, make some adjustments on my motorcycle, get in a game of frisbee, do some laundry, get some Thai food, swim. All the stuff big cities are good for.

The frisbee was at University of New Mexico. Due to the motorcycle injury earlier this year, I couldn't run well enough to play in the game, but I got a good hour of throws in. The students were polite and called me "sir."

Sir. Well, you turn fifty, these things happen. I guess I can start calling younger people "son" and "filly" and "whippersnapper."

Then: Arizona. Time to get off the bike and get serious about South America.
But first I had to drive through the aftermath of the largest fire in Arizona history.


On the way to Tucson to drop off my bike, I stopped in Phoenix to see family and friends. 110 to 115 degrees every day. Lots of swimming, either indoors or at night.

Thank you, Matt, for finally turning on the pool light. Made all the difference.

Tucson was not always in the 100s. Woo-hoo! The monsoons came in and occasionally made things tolerable outside. I even recall one afternoon when it was actually pleasant during the day. Yeah, stunning, I know.

I hung with my friend Judy and the wonder wiener dog Abigail, then stripped the bike of its battery and gasoline, turned in its mirrors, and sadly put the cover on. A great bike...

Except for falling off the damn thing that one time (well, falling under it), the bike trip - all 8000 miles - was one of the best parts of this last year. I can't say enough good things about my undersized Suzuki Burgman 400. I had zero issues out on the open road, through five US states and two countries. I was going to sell it once I got back to Arizona, even bought a "for sale" sign, but... Now I envision coming back to San Francisco the same way I left. Some day...

But first: I'm going to Ecuador! In fact, I'm already here. I'll take some photos of Quito, and get right back at you...

Stay tuned.