Exploring the Indigenous Market in Otavalo

Today we went to Otavalo, a city three hours north of Quito by bus, for the famous Saturday market. Rows upon rows of crafts, weavings, carvings, paintings, jewlery, clothing and a whole bunch of stuff no one really needs. Except for an Alpaca sweater, mitts, hat and scarf. Everyone needs those, and now I have them. Super warm and soft, Alpaca wool is a from a species of llama and all the softest textiles are made from it.

I could write every day, all day, fill a thousand journals and still not finish what I had to say; not be able to do justice to the things I have seen here. Shiny black pigs who sleep on front lawns. Elderly ecuadorian women, shriveled with the sun and hard work, carrying heavy loads to the market without shoes, feet no longer resembling human apendages. Cows that seem to graze wherever they want. The fact that I saw four different soccer games in three minutes. The number of empty, gutted structures near Otavalo. A patchwork of multicoloured fields that extend so far up the mountainous peaks as to make one wonder how they are possibly farmable. Dogs everywhere, eating what they please, and dying by the side of the road. Corn growing in every concievable space on the property, between buildings and on lawns. One type of Quito police who wear brown uniforms with shiny spurs and a long sword. The spongy, porous, dry hard soil that forms the roadside cliffs and seems to be able to be carved at will. The fact that the ecuadorian buses are more comfortable than those at home. The way that the bus assistants/fare collectors call out the destination repeatedly "Quito, Quito, Quito!" and try to usher you towards their bus.

The flora is no exception as well. I could draw, imagine, a new plant every day for the rest of my life and not be able to create such incredible diversity, the sheer number of insanely weird plants that exist here. Even the plants growing out of the roadside cliff baffle me with their complexity and uniqueness. An attempt to draw some of the plants ended up looking like something from a Dr. Seuss book; I did not think such things were possible on planet Earth.

I don´t know who told me that there´s no dusk near the equator, but they were wrong. The clouds are lit up with glorious hues of golds, pinks and baby blues, and the light reflects on the ochre cliffs.

I envy these rural people. A family digging together in their field, an old farmer leading a dairy cow across the road, a truck full of bananas, a small girl wrestling with a puppy on the dusty front steps of her house. Life seems simple here, fraught with hard work yet full of family and leisure.

Tomorrow I am climbing the volcano Guagua Pinchincha, at 4784 m, it will be my first real ascent. It´s organized by the hostal here, costs $40 for the day, including breakfast, lunch, transportation, and the guide. It erupted last in 1999, sending a gigantic plume of white ash into the air. My alpaca gear will be very useful as it is cold on the summit.

Well, plenty more to write about but that will have to come later. Its 1108 pm here right now, and I barely got any sleep last night. I decided to have one club night out here in Quito and it was a TON of fun.

Night, all!

Sarah

ps-- I am leaving the hostal Mon morning on my way to the Amazon. After that, once a week is going to be the maximum I´ll be able to post, as the tribe does not have internet! Only if I do a day trip to the closest town will I be able to write.