Exploring Ecuador

By Oma (Ruth's Momma Myra)

It seems like a long time ago and yesterday that Ruth fetched me (the Oma) from Guayaquil airport at 1:00 am on October 21st and took me to their hotel where Maya awoke to greet me with huge hugs. After a good, but short sleep on the bottom bunk, I awoke to the realization of being part of the Kamaya family. Our exploration of Ecuador with Oma began.

The morning started with a walk along Guayaquil’s magnificent Malecon which weaves along the waterfront for many miles peppered with stores, restaurants, exotic gardens, children’s playgrounds for Maya and Kai and adult playgrounds for Tim and Ruth. The excitement of the moment was a sizeable and very noisy demonstration by university students and teachers who (as we were told) protested the new law requiring teachers to take a test. The young man working at our hotel's reception questioned why the students joined in the protest as he, a student himself, felt that teachers needed standards.

With some nine pieces of baggage divided between the five of us, we boarded a bus for Banos. Along the way, our bus stopped at lots of little towns where “hawkers” boarded selling a variety of goods from banana chips to ice cream. The ride being longer than anticipated - and the Kamaya passengers getting itchy to run around, demanded an overnight stop at Riobamba for a traditional dinner, a good night’s sleep and - why not see another little town? We lucked into a small trade show of Ecuadorian products held in the local community auditorium - the major event of the town.

Enough of the local transportation, we splurged on a taxi to take us directly to Banos - a friendly vacation town, staying at Posada Marquez Inn in the town center. Ruth, Tim and Maya rented bicycles to investigate the town while Kai and Oma donned helmets and zoomed all over in a sort of doon buggy with a very loud horn and a maximum speed of 9 miles per hour. Kai honked the horn, moved the turn signals and advised “Floor it, Oma.”



Banos - as its name signifies, is known for its springs and baths - so we took a ride on horses up the volcano to a bubbly spring - the nob on the saddle might be for a lasso, but for me it was to hold on to for dear life.



From Banos to Quito where we stayed in the historical Old Town on Saturday night with its classic square, surrounded by churches, government buildings, shops, and hotels and people going in all different directions. Saturday night is holiday and wedding time with open horse carriages, beaming brides, and folk dancing in the plaza. The following day, we met up with Pilar, Kai’s Spanish teacher from his old school in Hood River.



Pilar is Ecuadorian and moved back here last year. She and her family introduced us to the local drink, Candelaza which is now our all time favorite. Pilar graciously invited the five of us to stay at her home and we had a grand dinner with her husband Eddy, daughter, Manuela and younger twins, Gabriel and Paula.

From Quito we bussed to Otavalo - the weaving town where the women wear traditional long black skirts and embroidered white blouses and they tot babies on their backs as they work away.



Atop a hill we visited a Condor Preserve run by a Dutch falconer who has Andean condors (they have the biggest wingspan of all birds),



and hawks, falcons, eagles and even a relative of Hedwig, the snowy owl in Harry Potter.



Back on a local bus to Cotopachi, the leather town with a hundred shops lining the main streets and all showcasing different leather jackets. I bought a leather jacket from a man who gets ideas for his patterns from the internet. We also stopped in Peguche to find Jose Cotopachi (again a local bus - we’re getting good at this) supposedly one of the finest weavers in Ecuador. Walking on the streets to Jose’s studio, we could hear the loud hum of the electric looms that have taken over the town. Jose weaves the old fashioned way, by hand, and he showed us how he makes the natural dyes, red comes from a little bug (the cochineal) that lives on the cactus plant.



The bug is squished into a natural red color:



From Otavalo by taxi to Quito airport and a 40 minute airplane ride was better than a twelve hour bus ride to our home to Bahia de Caraquez - where we were warmly welcomed by everyone in Puerto Amistad.

A few days at home to celebrate Halloween (Maya and Kai trick or treated by going boat to boat in the anchorage - pretty neat?) and to prepare Kamaya for our wild upwind sail to Isla de la Plata - the poor man’s Galapagos. We had the island to ourselves and the blue footed boobies loved us as they showed us the proper way to court a mate (Nate are you taking notes?) -- show off your blue feet, pick up a stick, and if all is going well, then point to the sky with a melodic whistle.



Tomorrow we sail to Manta where Oma finally gets a shower in preparation for her plane ride home. She is very sad to leave - and will be back on Kamaya soon. Besides, we have to continue rating all the ice cream stores.

Visit with the Cañari People

We recently went to Cuenca to see what many deem the most beautiful colonial city in all of South America. Cuenca is famous for its straw hats so we visited the hat factories,



...and went to the famous museum at the Banco Central which has real shrunken heads. Yes, that’s right, the Shuar Indians living in the Amazon perfected the shrunken head method. They also shrink a sloth’s head as a boy’s coming of age ceremony. We had the best carnivorous meal of my life at a small restaurant called Tiestos and we had ice cream at some of the best sweeteries in town.

But Tim and I have learned that our kids travel best when they do something. Museums, restaurants and shopping are not their forte. At our hotel, I noticed a brochure that advertised living with the Cañari people who have been in Southern Ecuador for more than 3000 years, even before the Incas ruled the area. Just 20 minutes outside of Cuenca, the group offered horsebackriding, organic food and claimed it would be the best cultural experience of one's life. We could learn about their medicinal plants and even stay the night. Why not? Cuenca shuts down on Sunday since most people leave town to enjoy the gorgeous countryside.

At 9:00 am the next morning, Jaime picked us up from our comfortable hotel. He had a warm smile and seemed like a nice young man. We all jumped in his taxi and drove to the outskirts of Cuenca. As we made our way 15 kilometers south to the town of Parcoloma, I was expecting to see adobe homes and Cañari people wandering around the hillside; instead I saw mini mansions, much like those in suburban California. Jaime explained that many of the homes were built by Ecuadorians living in the states and they had sent money home to their families. He told us that most families have relatives in either Spain or the United States and that many of the homes are vacant.

We drove down a dirt path and pulled into the driveway of Kushi Waira, which means “sweet wind” in Quichua. Sixteen year old Maria, wearing her traditional red skirt, welcomed us into their adobe home. She served Tim and I a warm welcome tea laced with potent sugar cane alcohol. We also ate a breakfast mixed with mote (cooked corn), eggs and cilantro.

After breakfast, we walked up the steep hill behind their home, breathing hard since we were at about 12,000 feet altitude. We went inside the forest and Jaime showed us the various medicinal plants that his family uses to cure all sorts of ailments from plain old colds to kidney stones. "These plants have helped my 93 year old grandmother remain strong and healthy," Jaime told us. At the top of the hill, Jaime took us to the place where he and his father had built a treehouse. The view from the treehouse showed the green mountains and the infamous Inca trail where its possible to walk all the way to Peru.

Up here on the hill, we met up with Jaime’s neice, Divna, and his nephew, Wilmer, who brought a horse for the kids to ride. Together they looked like Hansel and Gretl from Grimm’s fairy tales. Hardworking Divna carried a basket full of food which she handed to Jaime. The two spread out a long, narrow tablecloth on the ground and began preparing our “Pampamesa” or earth table.



Hail fell from the sky leaving marble-sized ice on the ground which the kids ran around to catch. Apparently, it rarely hails. We huddled underneath the shelter to begin our meal. Jaime poured cooked corn right on the linen, next came the beans, potatoes and home-made cheese. This is a typical festive meal, Jaime explained. There were no plates just the big pile of food spread elegantly along a common tablecloth. We each were handed a wooden spoon (though the Cañari traditionally eat with their fingers) and we spooned up the food, enjoying the food, tasty hot tea while the hail bounced around us.

For dinner, Jaime wanted to serve us Cuy (guinea pig) their favorite meal. We had visited their guinea pigs caged on the hill and I just wasn't eager to indulge in a culinary adventure.



Moreover, I had a very smart and lovely Guinea Pig growing up, so we opted out of Cuy. Instead, Tim suggested, tortillas. Little did we know that meant grinding the corn on the 200 year old stone and then passing it through the finer grinder for several times before cooking the tortillas in the open fire inside the kitchen.



I helped Jaime’s mother, Maria Luce in the kitchen which was separate from the main house and was also made of adobe. Maria had a number of different pots boiling at once. Her kitchen had running water and a propane burner, but Maria also liked to cook on the open fire in the corner of the room. Kai and Wilmer played with the fire while Maya and Divna drew pictures and Maria and I babbled away in Spanish.

In the early morning, Tim and I rose at 6 to help Maria milk cows. We walked about one mile up the hill and over the Inca trail to the family's cows. Since there were no fences, the cows were tethered to a stake in the ground. There were two calves. Maria let one of the calves free and it moved its wobbly legs as fast as it could to its mother, sucking quickly as if this was his last meal. That helped the cow let down its milk and Maria showed us how to milk the cow.



Tim and I only succeeded in getting a little milk to squeeze out of the tit, whereas expert Maria easily milked two teats at a time, with the milk rushing into the pail. Altogether we had 8 liters of milk to carry back to the milkman who buys the milk for 32 cents a liter and sells it for twice that.

Momma Maria taught Kai how to spin wool.



Just as we were getting ready to leave and head back to civilization, Kai went to say good-bye to the puppy and kitten that he had been playing with ...



and then --- I’m not sure what possessed him -- he turned to the side of the adobe building and held his hand out to pet a bigger dog. Suddenly there was barking, snarling and Kai ran back to us. He bravely held back his tears, pulled up his shorts and showed us the dog bite which was on his right inner thigh.

Immediately, Maria came out with alcohol to clean the wound. Kai said this stung more and later we learned that the Cañari traditionally use alcohol on all wounds. Tim and I had visions of a rabid dog and having to go through the litany of required shots. The family assured us that the government has a program that vaccinates the dogs in the area. We looked at the certification, but it didn’t add up. So we headed to the local doctor where for $15, we got Kai properly cleaned up and for another $15 we purchased antibiotics as a precautionary measure. The Doctor instructed us to stay in touch with Jaime who should monitor the dog for two weeks to make sure it wasn’t foaming at its mouth. It's been more than two weeks and fortunately we have clean bill of health.

In retrospect, was this the "cultural experience of our life?" It was interesting to be part of Jaime's family and to get a glimpse at the Cañari life. I'll always remember cooking with Momma Maria and at one point in the evening I had to do a double take and pinch myself as I thought for a moment I was in one of the museum's display of life thousands of years ago. Indeed, the 24 hours was definitely unforgettable; we just wished that it had ended on a better note.

Miguelito - my new old friend

We took a tricycle (a big three wheeled bike connected to a square basket with a seat in the back) to a school that had the one and only Galapagos tortoise that was not in the Galapagos but lived here in Bahia de Caraquez.

As we got to the gate it was shut. There were a few people around. We asked them how to get in. They tried to help us in but the door was locked so they told us to go talk to the person across the street in the “tienda,” that’s Spanish for store.

Ruth found the caretaker and he unlocked the gate. He led us through the garden then finally we found Miguelito, the Galapagos tortoise. As we got closer to the tortoise I asked him if I could get on him, he said yes. I climbed on top of Miguelito and sat on his hard thick shell. He started to move forward slowly and he was taking me for a ride!



Ruth asked the man how old Miguelito was and he told us that Miguelito just celebrated his 100th birthday! Wow, almost as old as my great -grandmother Anita. He said the tortoise is actually pretty young since many Galapagos turtles live to be 250 years old! As we sat there for a while in awe of this old creature, we wondered whether he was thirsty? We gave the man our water bottle and he poured water down Miguelito’s nose. Miguelito seemed to love the water and inhaled it through his nose. He has two big holes in his nose. The holes are about as wide as a pencil.



Then we went back to the boat. A few days later I went with Ruth and Maya to a Columbus Day parade only they don't really celebrate Columbus but they celebrate people from all over the world. We rode our unicycles in the parade. Afterwards, we went to visit Miguelito again and again and again.

He is our new, but old friend.

Isla de Cañas - turtles

This story takes place on our last night in Panama before we sailed to Ecuador

Kamaya skimmed across the long island known as Isla de Cañas, Panama. It is a long island which, at first sight, may look like part of the mainland and it's known for its turtles, who come through the gigantic surf to lay eggs. The species of turtles most commonly found here are the Olive Ridleys.

As I stared at the surf from the dinghy, I wondered how the Olive Ridleys managed to do this three times a month during the nesting season. Once the wheels were down on our dinghy, the dinghy lurched forward and went to depth enough to stand. Everyone got out, a few seconds later a big wave came and nearly flipped the dinghy over! At least, it got a few gallons of water inside. We bailed out the water and then changed into dry clothes. I wondered if we'd see any turtles.

We walked along the beach for at least a mile. There was nothing, no sign of turtles. Maybe tonight wasn't a good night, what if we wouldn't see anything?
Finally we saw a land mark signifying the beginning or the end of the reserve. there was someone sitting at the landmark. But we hadn't noticed that yet, for we heard the sound of churning sand! A turtle! Just then the high pitched whine of my brother Kai broke the tranquility and beauty of the turtle scene. He kept screaming, "Let's go back now." We hissed back to him to stop yelling and that there was a turtle coming up to nest. It took a little time to get the message across about the turtle, but finally he quieted down.

What he saw was amazing. Her larger front fins were shoveling and propelling her body across the sand, when I looked back, the tracks of the sea dweller went back a long way, she had come far from the sea.



By now she had made it parallel to the post, which we had just noticed and we went over to see what was there. This proved to be good, for there was a person leaning against it. She told us that this post marked the line to the reserves and we had been walking in the "non reserves" where the turtles are not protected from poachers. We also learned that she worked with the biologists here, but was not one herself. The Kamaya crew had met some other people who worked like her.

After reporting this new information to everyone else, we noticed the turtle had made some digging progress, she had a half foot and was shoveling out sand with her powerful front flippers. She splattered sand everywhere. The nest was complete! Now she began laying eggs, one by one. There were some more people looking at her, you could see the tears in her eyes. It reminded me how much alike turtles and humans are, yet she was prehistoric. A marvel of evolution.



The woman at the pole walked over and dug out the sand layer, in which covered the secret pouch where she was laying. She wanted to show us the eggs which were the size of ping pong balls, coming out one at a time. Making an unheard yet loud noise as they fell into the pouch where the fellow eggs lay. With each egg, the turtles' body heaved with the effort. She layed about thirty eggs, and then turned back to the sea. During the nesting season, she would lay about a hundred eggs total! But that's nothing in comparison to the Leatherback turtle, which can do 450 to 600 eggs total!



Meanwhile the Olive Ridley had stopped laying eggs and was covering her nest with sand. She walked all the way around the nest, spraying sand everywhere to cover up the eggs. It looked pretty camouflaged. Satisfied, she dragged herself back towards the ocean. About midway there she staggered towards the light of the nearby town, confused. Turtles often mistake city lights for the moon, and travel towards it. We aimed her in the right direction by blocking out the false light with our bodies. She understood and clambered towards the sea on her flippers, plunging into the surf. As she went in, out came another turtle, about to make the same journey as she had, the journey she was born to perform, one after the other.

Kai just got published!

Kai just had an article published in the October issue of Latitudes and Attitudes magazine. It's a great account of our crossing of the Gulf of Tehuantepec. Here's a link to his article.

Life in Ecuador

Less than a week after arriving in Bahia de Caraquez, Ecuador, we enrolled Maya and Kai in school, joined the local tennis club and started a routine life. The kids take tennis lessons everyday at our new club, Ruth takes yoga and is coaching two girls for a regional spelling bee and I am helping the school set up some physics demonstrations. We feel like a normal family with a normal routine.

Here's a typical day. We get up at 6 am, have a quick breakfast, Maya and Kai put on their school uniform of jeans and polo shirt and we dinghy over to the dock at Puerto Amistad, our home on land. From here, the kids walk across the street and take the bus to school at 6:45 am. School, which is 5 kilometers away, starts at 7am and sometimes they do miss the bus. Then we have to take a taxi.


Can you tell how Maya and Kai feel about school?

Classes include Spanish, English, math, science, PE, art, music, and a really interesting one called "development of thought." During English class which is everyday for two periods, the kids are tutored in Spanish.



Maya and Kai come back in the school bus around 1:40 in the afternoon and quickly change into tennis garb. We jump on a 3-wheel bicycle taxi...which takes you anywhere in town for .50 cents...and head straight to the tennis club.



The local pro, Coco, teaches Maya and Kai tennis, while Ruth and I play on the clay tennis courts. After tennis the kids love to play with the other boat kids here at Puerto Amistad, while Ruth coaches some of the girls on their upcoming spelling bee.



It's comfortable and relaxing to be back in a routine. The stormy skies of Panama have been replaced by stable cool weather. Surprisingly, even though we're living on the equator, the weather is cool, almost like San Francisco. We actually sleep with a sheet AND a blanket at night and sometimes wear a sweatshirt or long pants during the day!

Passage to Ecuador

In the early morning of September 2nd, after a night with the turtles (Maya’s next blog entry will detail our incredible night), we sailed off the hook from Isla Canas, Panama and made our way to Ecuador. In front of us was the powerful Humboldt Current, the cold ocean current flowing north from Chile to Peru. For that reason, we opted to sail about 100 miles southwest out to sea for relief and a better wind angle. We also wanted to by-pass the coast of Columbia which is known to have a few pirates lurking around.

Kamaya was loaded with oodles of bananas, yellow-finned tuna and lobster that the locals had given us within a few minutes after we set our anchor in Isla Canas. Our refrigerator was also stocked with a tasty fresh caught Sierra. We also had heaps of mangos, and tons of dried goods like pastas, beans and rice that we had purchased in Panama City. No one was going to go hungry on this 600 mile leg of our journey.

During our first night at sea, we faced thick rain, lightning, thunder and plenty of wind. The lightning would flash and light up the ocean for a few seconds and then, even though we had a nearly full moon, the sky would be dark from the clouds. Fortunately, the lightning was miles away from us, but it still kept us alert and nervous, especially since we had already been struck once and had just repaired our radar.

The strong wind continued throughout our journey and oscillated from the south to the southeast, which meant we were sailing upwind with the sails closely hauled in. At times we had a double-reef on our main. The second day, the lightning and thunder ceased, yet the sky stayed grey. We enjoyed the cooler weather, especially after the heat and humidity in Panama. We saw lots of flying fish. One whacked Tim in the back while he was standing on the side of the boat. Sailing upwind with 20 knots on the bow impeded our cooking -- that meant bananas for breakfast, lunch and dinner and the fish had to wait for calmer days. The current was so strong that it kept sucking us into the coast, making it hard for us to round the island of Malpelo that we had plotted as our initial course. We ended up sailing inside the island, leaving it about 60 miles to our starboard side.

Nothing really noteworthy happened until the fourth night, Sunday, September 6th, when we crossed the Equator. September 6th also happens to be our one year anniversary of living on Kamaya. It's pretty amazing that one year ago, we pulled up our anchor in Sausalito and sailed out the Golden Gate Bridge with Zach, Stef, Eli, Ari, Dave and Cole. It doesn't seem that long ago that the same night that we waved good-bye to them in Half Moon Bay and they drove back to their routine lives, while we didn't have a crystal ball guiding our future.

Anyway, a few minutes before 10:00 pm that night, Maya counted down the minutes of the longitude on our GPS. We each had four blue M&Ms for a sacrifice to Poseidon. “Save the turtles,” Kai said as he threw his M&M into the sea. “Don’t sink our ship” Maya requested. “Be kind to us,” I said. Then Tim took a cup of rum and reiterated the plea to keep us safe on the sea as he poured the sailor’s grog into the surrounding waves. We then blasted songs from Finding Nemo and danced on the deck, celebrating our passage to the official South Pacific.

We're now drying out our sea legs a bit in Bahia de Caraquez, Ecuador where thankfully there is no lightning. Tomorrow, Monday, Maya and Kai will go to school for the next month and immerse themselves in this very friendly country. We make our way around town getting rides on a three-wheeled bicycle cart and we've even joined the tennis club. It's been an incredible year for us and I'm sure the next year will be equally adventurous.

We end this blog entry with a special wish to my Grandmother who just turned 102! Happy Birthday Grandma Anita. I can't believe that it's been two years that we were all with you for your 100th birthday. Stay healthy and wise. With love from the Kamaya crew.