Sunshine and Rainbows: When Things Go Right

It's true, I've written a lot about all the little trials and tribulations of living life abroad. Some are vexing, some are laughable and others cause me levels of stress that just aren't worth the jump in my blood pressure. But, that's life, right? Things invariably go in unexpected directions.

Then something happens that makes your life easier and it's all sunshine and rainbows. We got an unexpected call from our internet provider; turns out they're upgrading their equipment and want to give us a different modem. We agreed to be home during their two hour window for the swap out. 

Our neighbour has been having problems with his (the slow death that usually affects such technology), but did I think of asking if they could replace his, too? No, total sometimers moment. But wait...

A few minutes after our conversation, Ron received an email confirming our appointment time window, as well as information about the work being done and the name of the technician. We were slightly baffled and mildly awed by this advancement in customer service. Sadly, it was a "no reply" email, so I couldn't inquire about next door. (I hate calling them, to be honest, so much hoopla.) 

The morning of, we received a reminder phone call and I had my wits about me (it must have been after my two coffees) and queried about next door. The woman assured me that the technician wouldn't have the time or extra equipment, but I should mention it to him, to arrange another appointment.

Well, that lovely man HAD the extra equipment and after a fairly quick call for authorization, he exchanged out our equipment and took care of next door as well. So pleasing! I basked in the glow of the successful operation for the rest of the day.

(One more example of things going right: we had a couple of days of "brownouts", like blackouts, but with a small electrical feed. Miraculously our WiFi, laptops and refrigerator still worked while everything else had no power...how's that for working out well?)

The Low Down on Stuff in Cuenca

The exotic lifestyle that most people think I'm leading is a bit of a sham. The truth is that it really isn't all that different from the life I lived in Canada, minus the secondary language. (Even that's a push, have you heard Newfies talking amongst themselves? Not to mention French Canadian!)

It's not just all about gin and tonics on the patio

Sure there are the bureaucratic challenges, the (seeming) lack of foresight when it comes to executing new mandates etc., but is that really any different from life back home?

Our newest challenge was the Cuenca buses switching to card only payment, no more coins. This is actually taking full affect on April 1st, which only makes me more dubious, but I have noticed that buses are taking out their change boxes and putting in something much more temporary. We set off to obtain our "tarifa normal" reloadable bus pass from the Etapa office at Gran Columbia and Tarqui. There was a huge line, but we were happy to find out that it was for "tarifa mitad" (the half price fair for students and seniors), we got to waltz up and receive our cards, which cost us $1.75 each...with no fare on them. The next task was to load them with money, so we can actually use them on the bus. Considering that this will be the only means of riding in the near future, you'd think they'd make it easy for you, but alas, like so many government initiatives, the execution is a bit lacking. The nice young man who gave us our cards didn't mention that we could load them at the Etapa office. 

So, we set off to find a recharge "station". The website on the back of the card offered lists of places in El Centro to do so, but without addresses and the interactive map didn't appear to be working. We wandered around and asked for directions (we're not proud), and were innocently misdirected.(This happens frequently here, no one really knows where anything is or what anything is called just because things change so frequently.) We finally stumbled across a store with the sign we were looking for and fairly easily put $5 on each card. Current fare per ride (no transfers included) is 25¢ and will be raised soon to 30¢. Tranvia will start at 35¢ and if ridership isn't high enough it will be raised to 50¢. (That's Ecuadorian logic for you...or maybe government logic, not sure.) If you're a student or 65+ the fare is half price. The cards will make that tricky half cent easier to calculate. 

This card will also be usable on Tranvia, the lightrail system that still is under construction. Happy news: the construction is back on track and should be complete on (the new) schedule in September. Bad news: with all the required testing, putting up signage etc, it won't be ready for the public until several months later.

Besides that, the health insurance requirement is still in affect, despite the complete chaos that has ensued. I'm secretly waiting for the government to abandon the initiative, just due to it's overwhelming complexity, but that could be wishful thinking. 

The state of my computer and health insurance
legislation are about the same.
(Yup, that's masking tape and metal duct tape.)

Our rainy season seems to have forgotten to arrive this year, though it is more overcast than usual. We've had some glorious days and for that I'm grateful. That's about all for now. Happy daylight saving time to those of you that practice it!

Hidden Waterfalls of Sayausi

Our hiking group, usually led by the intrepid Jeff Van Pelt, headed out on the number 3 bus towards Sayausi yesterday. It's a little area north west (ish) of Cuenca. Once we got to our stop, we grabbed two mixtos and headed up the hill to our starting point. (I have no idea what the stop was, I wasn't paying attention...which is one of the reasons I don't host any hikes.)

"Can I come, too?"

For those that have the time and energy, there's actually a loop route that takes around 6 hours to complete, but you have to go prepared, and we had a nice lunch waiting for us at Le Petit Jardin.

Shahbaz, trying out a friend's sunglasses
at Le Petit Jardin

One of the quirks of the outskirts is that you occasionally have to cross private land to get to some of these trails. Usually, Ecuadorians are generous and just wave at you as you go past. This particular hike uses a private road to access the trail head and the gentleman there has learned that he can press gringos (maybe locals, too) for a few bucks each to pass over his land. We happily avoided this instance yesterday, but be prepared, should you find yourself in this type of situation. (We were once denied access all together on a hike, despite a sign indicating that it was a tourism project...go figure.)

Our guide Jeff, finding these places for us to hike

The actual trail, once off the road was narrow and shaded by eucalyptus trees and heavy bamboo stands. The conditions were mostly perfect, damp ground, but not muddy, making for good grip under the feet. The sun came and went with the large, drifting clouds overhead and a slight breeze kept things cool for the most part. 

John, intrepidly making his way down

It's a steep climb and the side trails down to the sets of "cascades" (waterfalls) aren't marked, so it took a bit of exploration and daring-do to find the access points. We heartless used Ron (my hubbie), for his tirelessness, to check out the tracks before heading down ourselves. This isn't your North American adventure. The paths aren't made for safety, nor are they cleared for easy access, you just follow a little trail, ducking and twisting as necessary (not to mention slipping and grabbing branches) to get to these little pockets of peace. They are definitely not for those with crappy knees, aversion to heights or a deep need to know exactly where you're going.

Ron, guiding people down the steep embankment

We were rewarded with dappled sunlight, narrow falls and moss covered rocks. Once we'd cleared the "danger" area and avoided paying a toll to access what we assume is public land, we walked back down the hill and stopped at one of our guide's favourite restaurants for lunch.

Fairy glen

It was a great day, with interesting and amusing friends and a new adventure under our belts. 

Gratitude - It's all perspective

It's hard to believe, but a year has passed since I was suffering so terribly from a torn muscle and ligament. It's the type of pain that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy and I'm glad that chapter of my life is in the past. 

A llamingo - half llama/half alpaca...bad breath, but
he loved me (which makes me happy)
Photo by Linda Sorrento

The process was so impactful that, to this day, being able to do things without pain is something for which I'm grateful. I tied my shoe the other day, sitting on a chair, like a normal person; foot across my knee and it was a moment of pure joy. Something so simple. Walking down the street, rolling over in bed, even touching my toes or being able to go to the gym without worrying (overly) about being sore or unable is so freeing. 

Ron and I in Peru, heading towards Machu Picchu
(Happiness!)

All this "ableness" was lost on me before my injury. I was happy (in a general sort of way) to be able to do things that others obviously couldn't, but it wasn't really meaningful. I think this is why there is suffering; so that we can better appreciate the good things. Now, I'm going to go completely off the reservation (that's probably not PC, so my apologies) and apply this to privilege, be it financial, racial, gender or cultural. You don't know how good ya' got it, until you lose it. So when someone is talking from their own perspective, I cannot judge. I am not them, I haven't had their experiences and am in no place to condemn.

Flowers make me happy, too

I'm going to apply this principle as I move forward, trying to remember that everything is influenced by perspective. One person's disaster is another's best case scenario. It's a thought that I need to get through these wild and woolly times. What I do know, is that we're all human and there is no "us" or "them", just "we".