Monthly Archives: November 2007

Down to Salsaland

November 7, 2007
Day 770

To get back on the tourist track, I had to take a bus back to Popayan. On the way back, we stopped for breakfast at a house where the ceiling was at the height of my shoulders. Nobody else had to duck to stand there. I felt like a giant in a house of dwarfs.

I gathered all my stuff in Popayan and left right away for Cali. At only 1000 meters above sea level, Cali is hotter in many ways than the other Colombian towns I had been to so far. It's considered the salsa capital of South America, and claims to produce the most beautiful women on the continent, even though most of them are more plastic than flesh. On the other hand, breast augmentation only costs $2000 here, and there's no stigma against it, so who am I to judge?

I decided to do some Couchsurfing in Cali with a guy named Jaime. We had a few beers and some interesting conversations about Colombian culture. Cali used to be in the middle of the drug war, and as little as ten years ago, it was common to hear bombs going off and everyone would have to run into their houses in fear. Nowadays, the situation is much better here, but the guerrillas (e.g. the FARC and the ELN) still control much of the eastern half of the country, and the paramilitaries are still in the north. These groups don't like each other, and of course the government doesn't like them. It's a complicated situation, but the touristy areas of Colombia are much safer than they used to be.

The Importance of Oral Hygiene

November 5-6, 2007
Days 768-769

Picture of tomb.

A colorful tomb.

The next stop on my tour of Colombia was Tierradentro, a little-visited region near Popayan. Well, at least it's near Popayan on a map. However, the bus to get there took most of the day because the roads were unpaved, full of mud and potholes, and posed a serious mudslide risk in many places.

Toward the end of the day we arrived in the tiny town of San Andres de Pisimbala. I stayed with a Norwegian couple at a sweet old lady's house as there were no regular hostels in town. We took a walk around the area and soon ran into a party of sorts in the road where a bunch of the locals were getting drunk on chicha, a strong liquor made locally from sugar cane. They were friendly people, but soon I got annoyed with a guy whose breath smelled like someone defecated down his throat. He was extremely intoxicated and insisted on talking to me from such a short distance I thought he was going to kiss me as soon as I let my guard down. The Norwegians were ready to leave after the same guy pulled the girl away for a "dance," but actually did try to kiss her several times. But the good news was that I felt like I could strike up a conversation with any random person, drunk or sober, without feeling like they were trying to get something from me.

The next day I walked to the tombs, which were the area's main attraction. There were three locations scattered around the region, each with several large underground burial sights that were created well over 1000 years ago. A lot of them were plain, but most had painted walls, carvings etched in the columns, or pottery scattered throughout the interior. But the one thing all the tombs had in common was a staircase where the steps were so large, even I had to jump to reach them. I think the ancient people of this region were all at least eight feet tall. That being said, the best part of visiting the tombs for me was entering them. As I jumped down the stairs, I imagined what the inside was going to look like, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, the images from thousands of years ago slowly became clear, sometimes amazing, sometimes disappointing, but always a surprise.

There were a few other things between the tombs like museums and statues that had been collected and arranged under one roof. The area was green everywhere, there were lots of coffee plantations with piles of beans drying under the sun, the locals were unbelievably nice, and there weren't any tourists other than myself and the Norwegians. Tierradentro was a great introduction to the Colombian countryside.

The photo album for this entry is here.

Biker Gangs in the White City

November 3-4, 2007
Days 766-767

I got a bus early today to Popayan. It was a beautiful ride with volcanoes covered with green constantly dotting the landscape, but the road was slow-going with nonstop twists and turns, and I wasn't able to enjoy the journey very much because my brain had atrophied from being on so many buses.

At my hostel were a two guys from Britain and Ireland who were riding their motorcycles all over the Americas. They had to get all the way to Ushuaia in about two months, which seemed like an impossibly long distance to me (right now I'm closer to Milwaukee than Ushuaia). They were quite surprised to learn that I was only Bolivia six months ago, whereas they were all the way up in northern Alaska. Still, I think traveling on a motorcycle is totally different than traveling on buses. The old cliché of "It's the journey, not the destination" is much more valid when you're in control of your own vehicle.

I had heard many people say how great Popayan was, but it didn't do much for me. All the buildings in the center had been whitewashed, giving it the nickname The White City, but that alone doesn't make a place great. The bikers and I were pretty bored as we walked around on a Saturday night but only found a couple of bars that were empty but still felt the need to blast their music at deafening levels. And supposedly this was a university town.

Still Searching for Shakira

November 2, 2007
Day 765

I found out this morning that there were no buses going directly to the border, a surprise considering that normally buses go wherever you want them to go, but I didn't think it was a big deal. Instead, I first went to Ibarra, which was still a few hours from Colombia. The lady at the ticket window said she couldn't sell tickets to Tulcán (the border town), but I could simply wait for the bus to show up and board it. The bus was nearly full when it came and everyone pushed and shoved to get the last remaining seats. It reminded me of my Greyhound experience in Miami last year, but still nowhere near as bad (nothing is as bad as Greyhound).

The bus attendant said another one would show up in twenty minutes, but I'd been in South America long enough to know that was a lie. People here will say anything to get you to stop asking them questions. I noticed the guy waiting in line in front of me had a ticket in his hand, and sure enough, he had bought the last ticket for the next bus from the same lady who told me she wasn't selling tickets. I went back to her and got a ticket for the next available bus, but it wasn't set to leave for another ninety minutes, meaning I would have to waste a total of three hours in Ibarra. It was an incredibly frustrating situation with nothing resembling even the smallest sense of order. Things were even less organized than they normally are in South America.

Eventually I made it to Tulcán and took care of the border formalities. I took a taxi to immigration, got stamped out of Ecuador, walked across the Rio Putumayo, got stamped back into Colombia, and took a colectivo to Ipiales, the border town on the Colombian side. While I was waiting in line, I met a guy from Bogotá named Juan Carlos who was returning home from his trip to southern Peru. He was taking buses directly from Cusco all the way back home, which would probably take eighty hours to complete. Maybe I'll meet up with him in his hometown after he's recovered from the whirlwind vacation.

My final step of the long day was to take another bus a few hours north to Pasto. I wanted to get all the way to Popayán, but that will have to wait until tomorrow because the road is rather dangerous to travel on at night. In the end, the snafu in Ibarra ended up costing me a day. So I've been Colombia for most of a day, but still haven't had any Shakira sightings.

Goodbye Southern Hemisphere

October 30-November 1, 2007
Days 762-764

Shortly after I left Quito, I crossed the equator for the last time on my trip. The vast majority of my trip so far had been spent in the southern hemisphere, but it was time to move on to the north on my continual trip home. I'm really going to miss seeing the toilets flush clockwise.

I ended up in Otavalo, a small city in the far north of Ecuador. Otavalo is famous for its market, but I didn't see what all the hype was about. People were selling their fruits, vegetables, meat, and household goods in the streets, but it wasn't very different from the dozens of other markets I've seen in South America. Supposedly the best market day is Saturday, but still, Otavalo's market was less than a tenth the size of the one in El Alto, Bolivia on a weekday. There were some outdoors activities to do in the area, but the constant rain turned me off from it all. With rainy season almost in full swing, it was definitely time to go to Colombia.

Charlatans of the Equator

October 29, 2007
Day 761

Picture of equator.

A sign claiming to be on the equator.

At least a dozen times in my travels in South America, the topic of the Mitad del Mundo ("The Center of the Earth," as the equator near Quito is known) has come up with other travelers. Inevitably, the person tells me how great it was that they got to see firsthand that water drains from a sink in the opposite direction depending on which hemisphere you're in. I've always told them how ridiculous that was, that moving a little north or south of the equator couldn't possibly affect the flow of water, but they've always contended that they had "seen it with their own eyes." Well today, I finally got to see the equator with my own eyes, and I took an Israeli girl named Niva along as a witness.

When we reached the Mitad del Mundo, we walked past a virtual city of souvenir shops and restaurants until we reached a long line in the ground, an announcement that we had reached the equator, and a large monument commemorating our arrival. We escaped the sun and made a beeline for the large concrete sculpture.

Surprisingly, inside the monument was a museum full of relics from the multitude of cultures that still exist in Ecuador. From the Africans who were originally brought here as slaves, to the colorful but conservative mountain cultures, to the sultry cultures of the Amazon basin, Ecuador was very proud of its diverse heritage. There was also a section talking about how the French were sent here hundreds of years ago in an attempt to find the exact line of the equator. I guess that's why the monument was really built.

We didn't see any crazy people frantically flushing toilets around the equator line, but then we discovered that the entire city was built in the wrong spot. According to what the signs said, a few years back, GPS confirmed that the actual equator was in fact 240 meters north of line that the Ecuadorians had spent so much effort to build. And sure enough, when we walked away from the official-looking complex, we found the Inti-Ñan Solar Museum, where all of the quackery would commence.

We were given a guide named Andres to show us around the museum. At first he showed us a replica of a tomb where the indigenous people would bury a woman alive after her husband died, a solar clock that seemed to be pretty accurate, and a house that was supposedly original from an indigenous family over 100 years ago. Everything seemed legitimate so far.

Picture of Andres.

Andres showing us the powers of the Earth.

Next Andres led us to the actual line where he had set up a globe to demonstrate that the Earth rotates counter-clockwise in the northern hemisphere and clockwise in the south. The real fun began when he pulled the plug from a pan of water that was straddling the equator, and the water went straight down without spinning. Next, he moved the pan two meters to the south, refilled it, and pulled the plug again to reveal that the water drained in a clockwise manner. Finally, he moved the pan two meters north of the equator, filled it again, and pulled out the plug again, and suddenly the water drained counter-clockwise. I had almost gotten into physical fights with people who saw this demonstration and claimed that it was real, and now even I had seen it with my own eyes.

The thing is, the demonstration looked realistic except the fact that Andres filled the pan from the side to get the water moving in the appropriate direction. This probably had 1,000,000 times more influence on the water than the Coriolis effect, which he claimed was responsible for the water's direction. The water draining without moving when the pan was on the equator could be explained by the fact that it had been sitting for several minutes, which was long enough to stop the flow of the water sufficiently, especially given the fact that the pan's plug was very large.

Niva was quick to point out to Andres that it was crazy to assume that moving the pan a little to the north or south would suddenly affect the flow of the water. Andres simply said, "This is a demonstration, not an experiment." I guess that was his way of admitting that he was the one who created the effect without ruining the day of any other tourists who might have been listening.

The final demonstrations were even more ridiculous. We were shown that while it wasn't easy, it was definitely possible to balance an egg on the equator. I almost pointed out that you can balance an egg anywhere on the planet, but I got a certificate for my accomplishment, so I shut up. We were also shown that we weigh less (maybe by one gram) on the equator since we're further from the center of the Earth, and Andres even showed this by performing a few more demonstrations of our relative weakness while standing on the line compared with right next to it. There's no way we only felt weaker because Andres was applying more force to our hands, either. The charlatan show may have been entertaining, but the problem was that it made me skeptical of everything else I saw that day, too.

At the end of our museum visit, Andres showed us some cool stuff like how to make a shrunken head, how to shoot a dart through a blowgun, and how the local people did their weaving. I even got a Mitad del Mundo stamp in my passport. So the visit ended on a high note, even though I wasn't sure if I had even seen the real equator at all.

I'm really surprised that so many seemingly reasonable people I met on my trip fell for the water spinning trick given that it was fairly obvious what was really happening. I guess the best explanation is that people want to believe in unusual stuff, not the boring stuff that happens to be true. So the lesson of the day is that water in any form smaller than a hurricane (and that includes your toilet) doesn't spin in opposite directions when draining depending on which hemisphere you're in. But at least we still have Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

The photo album for this entry is here.

Soccer Without Defense

October 28, 2007
Day 760

Picture of game.

The Liga section of the stadium.

I hadn't been to a soccer game for a long time, so today I went with some people from my hostel to see the game that South America loves. The scene outside the stadium was chaotic as usual, and none of us could even figure out so much as which team's tickets were for sale in which line, if you even could call the cluster of people pushing and shoving a line. We eventually got tickets from a lady I presumed was a scalper, although so many other people were buying tickets from her, she might as well have been an official salesperson. Later, we figured out that we had bought tickets for Liga, which was by far the most popular of the two teams, and we were allowed into the stadium only after walking halfway around it.

We ended up sitting right in front of a guy who had brought his drum to the game, but it was bound to be loud and crazy no matter where we sat. A couple near us seemed really into Liga as they not only wore the team's hats and shirts, but also had a radio and announced the play-by-play to us as interesting things happened. The only problem with the commentary was that they never found the need to say anything until the guy with the drum started banging away.

The sun was fierce, which was to be expected being at both high altitude and on the equator, but everyone got mad when I pulled out my umbrella to create some shade. Something about poking their eyes out. Luckily I still had my secret weapon of a bucketful of sunscreen that I put on before we left. Everyone else got sunburned.

Overall, the game was interesting because it was full of aggressive offensive moves. I think Liga should have scored about ten goals, but we only ended up winning 3-1. Our most expensive player was a guy from Argentina who got fat and sucky as soon as we signed him, and nobody in the crowd was afraid to share their opinion of the guy. We learned a lot of new words in Spanish that normally wouldn't be used around children, but the game still wasn't nearly as rowdy as the ones I had seen in Buenos Aires. This despite the fact that people handed out free razors to everyone entering the stadium, even the little kids who were walking in front of us. The best thing about going to a game in South America is that you can buy all the food and drinks you want with little or no markup over what you'd pay in a supermarket.

The photo album for this entry is here.

My Shoes Aren't Welcome Here

October 27, 2007
Day 759

Picture of car.

One of the cable cars coming up.

I took a walk today for about forty-five minutes uphill to the edge of town where the Teleferico line began. The gigantic ski lift-like contraption took people over 1500 meters above the city to a hill over 4000 high to what was supposed to be a great viewpoint of the city. The main problem was that it was slightly cloudy, so I couldn't see very far, but the Teleferico also went so high that the people below didn't even look like ants anymore. They looked more like molecules. I think Quito wanted to copy Rio de Janeiro when they built the lift, but they overdid it a little bit.

Tonight I met up with Leigh again and we went to an 80's dance club. Leigh walked past the bouncer, but when he saw me, he looked me up and down and said, "Hey man, you can't come in here dressed like that. I mean, just look at your shoes." My shoes? Yes, they were black hiking boots, but I had just polished them by hand before going out for the night. I looked around at the other patrons, and they all were wearing jeans and t-shirts, but had nice shoes. I could have walked into there completely naked but worn a pair of wingtips and gotten in no problem. My shoes weren't welcome in the club, so we went back to the hostel disappointed and played some cards with the other backpacker trash who were equally unenthusiastic about going out in Quito.

The photo album for this entry is here

The Milkman Cometh

October 26, 2007
Day 758

Leigh had high ambitions for the day and took the bus back to Quito at 4:00 AM or something ridiculous like that. I didn't want to leave so early, so I opted to sleep in and grab the next transport out of town. The only stipulation was that the only way I'd be able to leave before nightfall would be to take the milk truck. I jumped in the back of the large pickup truck with about twenty of my best friends and a guy clinging to a huge barrel of milk. The road wasn't very smooth, so everyone held onto everyone else for support as we went around the sharp bends. Every few minutes, we'd stop at someone's house and they'd either buy a bit of milk from the guy with the barrel, or sell whatever milk they had to him. By the time we got to the next town, the jug was almost completely full and was presumably ready to be sold to a large company.

I had to wait a few hours in the scorching midday equatorial sun, but eventually I was able to get a bus all the way back to Quito. The Quilatoa area was beautiful with mountains, pine forests, and little villages dotting the landscape all the way. On the way back to Quito, I even got a nice look at Cotopaxi (5897 meters), the world's highest volcano and the place where some claim is furthest from the center of the Earth (most say its Chimborazo, which at 6310 meters is higher, but further from the equator than Cotopaxi). It was a good experience getting away from the city, even though it was only for a few days.

Abandoned By My Best Friend

October 25, 2007
Day 757

Picture of Leigh and I.

Leigh and I enjoy our bread men.

To start out the day, Leigh and I took another look at Laguna Quilatoa, then started walking on the path around the edge of the top of the crater. Right away, we saw a stray dog we had seen last night. One of her eyes was blue, the other brown, she had thin, dry fir, and there was almost no meat on her bones. Leigh though she was cute, and I kind of conceded by saying that she was so ugly she was cute.

When we got one-third of the way around the lagoon, we left it and headed north toward Chugchilan. We attempted to send the dog home, but she just started rubbing herself all over us. The dog continued following us, taking breaks whenever we did. When we stopped for lunch, we gave her some animal crackers as a reward for her loyalty.

I had grand visions for the ugly-but-cute dog. She was going to fend off the big nasty attack dogs for us and end up curling up in a ball in front of the fireplace for the night. But as soon as we arrived in Chugchilan after walking all day, she left us. Leigh and I walked around town later, and we spotted her taking food from a tourist in front of an expensive hotel. That dog was my best friend for the majority of the day, but then she abandoned me for someone with better quality food. What a disloyal bitch!