Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Ecuadorian Bits and Pieces
Police action and Piccachu
I spent longer in Quito than expected, but this is was so I could meet up with Carrie, (aka Grommet), who I had previously travelled around Uruguay with, for a couple more weeks on the road together. But it also meant I had time to sort out new rain-cover for rucksack made by a street tailor - that has already proved it's worth!
Before leaving Quito I witnessed the main square being cleared of protesters. As the 50 strong crowd of women, shouting "asesinos", were charged out of the square by military police in full riot gear, it struck me the police had two lessons to learn. Firstly, don't shove protesters down a road where there is building work going on, your apparel gives the invitation and the material to hand the opportunity for you to be showered in bits of brick and wood. And in the consequent effort to disperse the crowd more rapidly, if you will use CS gas, don't spray it and then charge the crowd, you will succeed in gassing the first row of the officers too.
As far as I can make out there are countless variations to the Ecuadorian Police - with uniforms all obviously designed by a man taking too much testosterone on his cornflakes. There is a whole swathe that come in military style camouflage uniforms, but the divisions within these are unclear except for the variation in colour. They come in a range of grey-blacks, grey-greens, dark blues, light blues and pinks, none of which look like they the would camouflage anyone from anything really, but all of them have been designed to fit an athletic Ecuadorian youthful standard, and look rather comical on the more portly older constabulary. The metropolitan police forces have a more formal, khaki dress. However, the women wear knee-length skirts and impractically high-heeled boots, where as the men have some elements that are clearly a throwback to days gone by: in addition to their stab-proof vests they wear cavalry boots and on occasion carry sabres.
Bad stuff on buses
In every country of South America the buses and trains are boarded by men women and children hawking all manner of stuff, from food and drink to q-tips and needles and thread. Some times there are some less standard articles such as computer manuals and miracle cures which I've always assumed were picked up cheap at markets and then sold on for some kind of profit, but perhaps the worst I've come across is the Piccachu toys that, when squeezed, mysteriously played "I'm a Barbie Girl" - the guys wasn't shifting them.
Best collective noun:
"A Wallet of Gringos"
- This was originated by Adam, a man with an encyclopedic knowledge of music and football, and a life like something from Jerry Springer.
I spent longer in Quito than expected, but this is was so I could meet up with Carrie, (aka Grommet), who I had previously travelled around Uruguay with, for a couple more weeks on the road together. But it also meant I had time to sort out new rain-cover for rucksack made by a street tailor - that has already proved it's worth!Before leaving Quito I witnessed the main square being cleared of protesters. As the 50 strong crowd of women, shouting "asesinos", were charged out of the square by military police in full riot gear, it struck me the police had two lessons to learn. Firstly, don't shove protesters down a road where there is building work going on, your apparel gives the invitation and the material to hand the opportunity for you to be showered in bits of brick and wood. And in the consequent effort to disperse the crowd more rapidly, if you will use CS gas, don't spray it and then charge the crowd, you will succeed in gassing the first row of the officers too.
As far as I can make out there are countless variations to the Ecuadorian Police - with uniforms all obviously designed by a man taking too much testosterone on his cornflakes. There is a whole swathe that come in military style camouflage uniforms, but the divisions within these are unclear except for the variation in colour. They come in a range of grey-blacks, grey-greens, dark blues, light blues and pinks, none of which look like they the would camouflage anyone from anything really, but all of them have been designed to fit an athletic Ecuadorian youthful standard, and look rather comical on the more portly older constabulary. The metropolitan police forces have a more formal, khaki dress. However, the women wear knee-length skirts and impractically high-heeled boots, where as the men have some elements that are clearly a throwback to days gone by: in addition to their stab-proof vests they wear cavalry boots and on occasion carry sabres.
Bad stuff on buses
In every country of South America the buses and trains are boarded by men women and children hawking all manner of stuff, from food and drink to q-tips and needles and thread. Some times there are some less standard articles such as computer manuals and miracle cures which I've always assumed were picked up cheap at markets and then sold on for some kind of profit, but perhaps the worst I've come across is the Piccachu toys that, when squeezed, mysteriously played "I'm a Barbie Girl" - the guys wasn't shifting them.
Best collective noun:
"A Wallet of Gringos"
- This was originated by Adam, a man with an encyclopedic knowledge of music and football, and a life like something from Jerry Springer.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Ibarra and Otavalo
SuperMercardos
Ibarra is a small regional capital north east of Quito, surrounded by inactive volcanoes. The Northern half of the city has a faintly old fashioned feel, with colonial buildings and tree filled plazas. Hummingbirds buzz around the blossoms, and small children can have their photographs taken on a long-dead, stuffed ponies, by photographers that look equally long-dead and stuffed.
The south half of the town is the commercial centre and has a fantastic, sprawling central market, which is a warren of stalls. And it was the first time I've seen in my travels in Latin America a row of shoe-shine women, of all ages - this role is usually filled by old men or small boys, so I'm not very sure if this is a good or bad sign!
I imagined I would spend a few hours wandering about the place before heading to some of the surrounding lakes that the area is famous for. However I filled a couple days meandering around the town, chilling in the plazas, and eating several good meals...
Ibarra is one of those places Lonely Planet last visited when the stuffed ponies were still twinkles in their parents' eyes, and the guide is fairly inaccurate. If you are using the "South America on a Shoestring" book and plan to visit Ibarra soon, see the "Information on Ibarra" at the end.
Since Norwegian Chris has departed I have been accompanied to dinner on several occasions by a tatty 1950's Penguin Orange edition of Put Out More Flags, that I had swapped in Montevideo for a copy of Cider With Rosie. It was one of what looked like a batch of second-hand books that had been picked up job lot by the hostel to fill some shelf space. I'm not much of a Waugh fan, and find it all a bit upper class claptrap - tongue in cheek or not - but what's holding my interest are the words, such as flummoxed and tipsily, that the original owner has carefully underlined and filled the margins with the Spanish translations in beautifully old worldy handwriting.
Otavalo - The Camden of The Andes
I arrived here on the first day of the annual Yamor fiesta, which was a surprise, (as was the lack of reasonably priced accommodation). It's the biggest fiesta in the North of the Country apparently, and to prove it the parade lasted 4 hours, culminating in fireworks and the selection of the another queen for the year. Yamor is a hot drink made from corn. Whether it was that I was drinking or something else, for 25 cents a cup, I don't know, but whatever it was, it was mix with some nameless white spirit, which helped keep out the cold, knocked me sideways, and left me in a very "can't be arsed" mood in the morning - bargain!
During the second day of festivities there were a series of what could be referred to as "modern interpretations of traditional fokeloric dances" which involved a lot of slightly out of time dancers in costumes a "talented" tailor had been let loose on.
Otavalo is famous for it's Saturday markets. Once out of bed, I made my way to what was the fading moments of the animal market. By this time most of the livestock had been sold and the pigs were either squealing madly as they were being dragged off (not for the faint hearted) or just bedding down in the dirt. The other market is in the centre of town, in one half you have the very touristy part, including lots of stuff that tourists like (ponchos, drawstring trousers and jumpers etc in horrific designs you would never see a local wearing) and, unbelievably, didgeridoos and north American Indian dream catchers. In the other half you have the standard local market: food stalls, fruit and veg, unidentifiable parts of animals, and all manner of stalls selling all sorts of other goods like, tools, pots and pans, plastic stuff and of course the clothes that the locals do wear. I definitely prefer the local market, not for any patronising "Yeah, it's like this: you get closer to the locals actually" reason, it's just all that knitwear with repeated geometric lama patterns reminds me of terrible Christmas jumpers.
I'm Spartacus, part two:
On my last day in Otavalo I travelled up to Lake Cuicocha, and wandered up around the edge of the volcano crater it lies in with a British couple who've been travelling around South America as long as I have. And he was called Barney too!!! That's the second in this trip. I'm beginning to wonder if there are enough still left at home...
Overheard in the Street:
"But in my country you don't have to pay if you take someone's photograph."
Nice try son, now pay the lady her money and ask first next time. And not really true, when Dave, Biff, Gemma and I had our dodgiest of haircuts we charged tourists 50p for a photo, or a pound if it was septic. (I can hear my mother sighing "Oh you didn't" as she reads this).
Meaty Sticks Index:
As it was fiesta time in Otavalo the BBQ meat skewer people were out in force. Having sampled more than a few in a couple of countries I have compiled the following top three comparison:
Ecuador- overly complex:
Bits of frankfurter at bottom and top holding a potato, banana and a strip of meat in place. (US$0.25 : 13.5p)
Paraguay - a bit worrying:
Strips of meat, interspersed with lumps of gnarly fat, accompanied with a bit of yucca* (500 Guaranis : 5p)
Bolivia - plain and simple, and the best:
Meaty strips with a lump of yucca* on the end. (1 Boliviano : 6.5p)
*Yucca is a root vegetable I love! A bit like potato meets parsnip. Not quite sure if it's the same as the houseplant Yucca, or not, but otherwise I have only knowingly eaten a house plant once previously, but bring an ornamental cabbage into my kitchen and that's what happens...
Ibarra Information:
Other than a few well established (i.e old) hotels and restaurants, local bus stops, and the street plan, the guide is pretty inaccurate, and maybe why I spent so long wandering around the town in the first place.
There is an airfield!! But there are no planes, and only people flying kites and cows at pasture on the strip. TAME don't fly there nor do they have an office in the town.
There is now a bus terminal, right the way down Espejo to the south west of town, (taxi ride is no more than US$1 into the centre), where all regional and inter-regional buses arrive and leave from. This includes buses to Otavalo and Cotacachi, although go straight onto the platforms for these and pay on board, there is no ticket office for them. You can get to San Antonio on an Otavalo bus from here too, but the local buses in various states of decrepitude run there regularly, passing the corner of Guerrero and Sánchez y Cifuentes.
Some places that the guide has either wrongly or not marked are as follows: The post office is in Parque La Merced. There is a tourist office is on the corner of Oviedo & Rocafuerte, next to a travel agency, and has good information and map of the area, but no map of the town. Opposite is the small Banco Centro Cultural Museo, which is worth a go for the US$1 entry and has a good explanation (in Spanish and English) of the pre-Colombian development of Ecuador and the region. There is a cheap international call centre in the 5th Block on Mosquera, and several internet cafes on Olmedo.
Unless you're sick to the back teeth with colonial towns it's a pleasant town to stop over and spend at least half a day wandering around. San Antonio is worth the 18cents bus ride, but wont keep you busy for more than an hour or so, unless you're really into gaudy wood carvings...but for me once you've seen one shop full you've seen them all... that said away from the main square there are some workshops you can stop and look in on, which to me are more interesting. And walking down to the Pan American to the left of and past the football pitch, there is a series of murals of varying quality.
Ibarra is a small regional capital north east of Quito, surrounded by inactive volcanoes. The Northern half of the city has a faintly old fashioned feel, with colonial buildings and tree filled plazas. Hummingbirds buzz around the blossoms, and small children can have their photographs taken on a long-dead, stuffed ponies, by photographers that look equally long-dead and stuffed.The south half of the town is the commercial centre and has a fantastic, sprawling central market, which is a warren of stalls. And it was the first time I've seen in my travels in Latin America a row of shoe-shine women, of all ages - this role is usually filled by old men or small boys, so I'm not very sure if this is a good or bad sign!
I imagined I would spend a few hours wandering about the place before heading to some of the surrounding lakes that the area is famous for. However I filled a couple days meandering around the town, chilling in the plazas, and eating several good meals...
Ibarra is one of those places Lonely Planet last visited when the stuffed ponies were still twinkles in their parents' eyes, and the guide is fairly inaccurate. If you are using the "South America on a Shoestring" book and plan to visit Ibarra soon, see the "Information on Ibarra" at the end.
Second-World Waugh
Since Norwegian Chris has departed I have been accompanied to dinner on several occasions by a tatty 1950's Penguin Orange edition of Put Out More Flags, that I had swapped in Montevideo for a copy of Cider With Rosie. It was one of what looked like a batch of second-hand books that had been picked up job lot by the hostel to fill some shelf space. I'm not much of a Waugh fan, and find it all a bit upper class claptrap - tongue in cheek or not - but what's holding my interest are the words, such as flummoxed and tipsily, that the original owner has carefully underlined and filled the margins with the Spanish translations in beautifully old worldy handwriting.
Otavalo - The Camden of The Andes
I arrived here on the first day of the annual Yamor fiesta, which was a surprise, (as was the lack of reasonably priced accommodation). It's the biggest fiesta in the North of the Country apparently, and to prove it the parade lasted 4 hours, culminating in fireworks and the selection of the another queen for the year. Yamor is a hot drink made from corn. Whether it was that I was drinking or something else, for 25 cents a cup, I don't know, but whatever it was, it was mix with some nameless white spirit, which helped keep out the cold, knocked me sideways, and left me in a very "can't be arsed" mood in the morning - bargain!During the second day of festivities there were a series of what could be referred to as "modern interpretations of traditional fokeloric dances" which involved a lot of slightly out of time dancers in costumes a "talented" tailor had been let loose on.
Otavalo is famous for it's Saturday markets. Once out of bed, I made my way to what was the fading moments of the animal market. By this time most of the livestock had been sold and the pigs were either squealing madly as they were being dragged off (not for the faint hearted) or just bedding down in the dirt. The other market is in the centre of town, in one half you have the very touristy part, including lots of stuff that tourists like (ponchos, drawstring trousers and jumpers etc in horrific designs you would never see a local wearing) and, unbelievably, didgeridoos and north American Indian dream catchers. In the other half you have the standard local market: food stalls, fruit and veg, unidentifiable parts of animals, and all manner of stalls selling all sorts of other goods like, tools, pots and pans, plastic stuff and of course the clothes that the locals do wear. I definitely prefer the local market, not for any patronising "Yeah, it's like this: you get closer to the locals actually" reason, it's just all that knitwear with repeated geometric lama patterns reminds me of terrible Christmas jumpers.I'm Spartacus, part two:
On my last day in Otavalo I travelled up to Lake Cuicocha, and wandered up around the edge of the volcano crater it lies in with a British couple who've been travelling around South America as long as I have. And he was called Barney too!!! That's the second in this trip. I'm beginning to wonder if there are enough still left at home...
Overheard in the Street:
"But in my country you don't have to pay if you take someone's photograph."
Nice try son, now pay the lady her money and ask first next time. And not really true, when Dave, Biff, Gemma and I had our dodgiest of haircuts we charged tourists 50p for a photo, or a pound if it was septic. (I can hear my mother sighing "Oh you didn't" as she reads this).
Meaty Sticks Index:
As it was fiesta time in Otavalo the BBQ meat skewer people were out in force. Having sampled more than a few in a couple of countries I have compiled the following top three comparison:
Ecuador- overly complex:
Bits of frankfurter at bottom and top holding a potato, banana and a strip of meat in place. (US$0.25 : 13.5p)
Paraguay - a bit worrying:
Strips of meat, interspersed with lumps of gnarly fat, accompanied with a bit of yucca* (500 Guaranis : 5p)
Bolivia - plain and simple, and the best:
Meaty strips with a lump of yucca* on the end. (1 Boliviano : 6.5p)
*Yucca is a root vegetable I love! A bit like potato meets parsnip. Not quite sure if it's the same as the houseplant Yucca, or not, but otherwise I have only knowingly eaten a house plant once previously, but bring an ornamental cabbage into my kitchen and that's what happens...
Ibarra Information:
Other than a few well established (i.e old) hotels and restaurants, local bus stops, and the street plan, the guide is pretty inaccurate, and maybe why I spent so long wandering around the town in the first place.
There is an airfield!! But there are no planes, and only people flying kites and cows at pasture on the strip. TAME don't fly there nor do they have an office in the town.
There is now a bus terminal, right the way down Espejo to the south west of town, (taxi ride is no more than US$1 into the centre), where all regional and inter-regional buses arrive and leave from. This includes buses to Otavalo and Cotacachi, although go straight onto the platforms for these and pay on board, there is no ticket office for them. You can get to San Antonio on an Otavalo bus from here too, but the local buses in various states of decrepitude run there regularly, passing the corner of Guerrero and Sánchez y Cifuentes.
Some places that the guide has either wrongly or not marked are as follows: The post office is in Parque La Merced. There is a tourist office is on the corner of Oviedo & Rocafuerte, next to a travel agency, and has good information and map of the area, but no map of the town. Opposite is the small Banco Centro Cultural Museo, which is worth a go for the US$1 entry and has a good explanation (in Spanish and English) of the pre-Colombian development of Ecuador and the region. There is a cheap international call centre in the 5th Block on Mosquera, and several internet cafes on Olmedo.
Unless you're sick to the back teeth with colonial towns it's a pleasant town to stop over and spend at least half a day wandering around. San Antonio is worth the 18cents bus ride, but wont keep you busy for more than an hour or so, unless you're really into gaudy wood carvings...but for me once you've seen one shop full you've seen them all... that said away from the main square there are some workshops you can stop and look in on, which to me are more interesting. And walking down to the Pan American to the left of and past the football pitch, there is a series of murals of varying quality.
