Hiking

Day 3……….
This morning, I got up early and went to the school with Njål. Eudoxia, the woman in charge of the office, has arranged for a friend of hers to take me on a private tour of Quito. Omar shows up and is a handsome young man who is nice, nice, nice. He immediately starts chatting with me and regardless of his own ability to speak a little English, insists that I speak in only Spanish. This makes me laugh and laugh because no matter how often, how loudly, or how slowly he says, ¨dónde están usted de?¨I still have absolutely NO idea what he is saying! Turns out he is asking where I am from. 🙂
For fifteen minutes we wind our way through the streets of Quito and he peppers me with friendly questions…..in Spanish, of course. I am just starting to realize that this might make for a very long tour when, BAM! We are rear ended by a young man driving an SUV. No worries….we are totally fine!!! But, unfortunately, the cars are not. I get out of the car and step onto the sidewalk, leaning against the wall. I listen for ten minutes while the young man apologizes profusely and Omar looks sadly at the crumpled rear of his car. It doesn’t look like there will be a tour today. 🙁 I feel so badly for Omar….I know he needs his car to make a living and he looks so dejected..

As I lean against the wall, I look up and read the street sign. Mariscal Ave.

Great.

All of the books I have read have said that Mariscal has some of the more, shall we say, unseemly areas of Quito and that it is not all that safe. I look at Omar and tell him that I am going to get a cab back to the school and that I am so sorry for him. He nods sadly and throws out his arm. In matter of 2 seconds a taxi has slid to a stop in front of me and I am on my way back to the school. So, what to do in a situation like this? Call my new friend Patricio!! Within another 15 minutes, I am safely ensconced in his cab, headed for the Cathedral. I am so excited about this cathedral!! Here they call it the Basilica, and it is not even the most famous church in town, but it is huge and gorgeous and I crane my neck out of the window to get a glimpse of it as we maneuver through the curvy, narrow stone streets.
The thing about cathedrals is that, they don’t ever seem to match their surroundings. We are in the midst of cobblestone roads and buildings of pastel colors stretching, literally, as far as you can see. And towering above it all is this immense, dark grey stone structure that truly reaches for the heavens. You see it peeking up and through the neighborhoods, or ´barrios´ as they are known here but it is not until you actually pull up to it that you can see how incredible it really is. Now, someone told me that this is actually neo Gothic, but it looks exactly like every Gothic cathedral I have ever been in. Except….all of the gargoyles are animals!! They have tortoises, alligators, and even armadillos sticking out of the side of the building! It is cool!!
I climb the steps to enter the cathedral and an elderly nun comes out and starts talking away to me. She chatters and chatters! I offer her my hand and help her down the steep steps, all the while she is talking animatedly the entire time!! When we get to the bottom she nods and smiles, saying ´Gracias¨ and gets into a cab. I guess I will never know what she was actually saying to me!! 🙂
I enjoy the Cathedral and luckily enough, they allow photos without flash, so I click away. I understand that you can climb 300 steps and a series of ladders to the very top of the cathedral, but the altitude is still playing havoc with my lungs, so I decide to leave that for another time. Afterwards, I sit and enjoy a coffee while watching the people come and go from the church. This really is my favorite part!!

I finally abandoned my ´cafe with a view´ and make my way back to the very patient Patricio. It is time to go see the church that Quito is most famous for. I am really not sure how it can compare with what I have just enjoyed, but I am happy to go see what all of the fuss is about. We make our way through the heart of the Colonial downtown of Quito and I crick my neck trying to see everything!! The traffic is terrible, but we finally make our way to a parking space and as I get out, I look up to see that Patricio is also getting out. He motions that he will walk with me.

Oh this is SO not what I had in mind!!

Don’t get me wrong….he is very, very nice! But I want to enjoy the heart of Quito for a few hours alone, not feeling like I have a body guard!! I momentarily contemplate giving him the slip, but of course, I would never do that. It was a fun idea, though! We weave our way through the crowds of people….almost all locals. There are not many tourists around, as far as I can tell. Old men are sitting on benches feeding pigeons, children are chasing each other in circles and women are weaving through it all selling bags of fruit that I do not recognize. It is a pretty cool scene.
We make our way up to a church that looks…well, nice and all that, but….no big deal. Patricio waits outside while I pay my 2 dollars and walk through the door.

Oh………my………………goodness…………..

This church is called La Companea. And the inside is plated in over 7 tons of gold. Did you hear that?!?!?!? That would be 14,000 pounds of gold. Imagine every single surface covered with the most ornate patterns imaginable…all gold. I am so sorry because there are no words that I can say that can really make you see what this looks like! It is known as the most beautiful church in all of Latin America and I have to say, I cannot imagine anything on earth being more spectacular than this. Of course, here they do not allow photos, but later I will put some images up on the blog so that you can all enjoy it. All I can say is that I am terribly glad that I came to see it.
Afterwards, we walked down to another church, this one less ornate, but gorgeous in it’s own right. It had beautiful paintings washed over the stone walls and looked old and revered. It was a great church to follow the opulence of La Campanea. Quito has 87 churches and the city is really famous because of that. I wish that I had time to see them all. There is something about old churches that truly moves me. It is not the religion….that is fine, but does not move my soul the way the buildings themselves do. I am just so profoundly touched by the centuries of work and honor that go into each of them. It is something really special.

The day is getting on and I still need to buy shoes, (Njål has insisted that I have tango shoes) 🙂 go to the bank and grab a quick bite before the Tango lesson tonight. This one is for the pros, and I will just be watching. But I am really honored to be included.
After running all of my errands and saying goodbye to Patricio, Njål and I head across town to the University. We walk into a recital hall and I settle onto the floor to watch. Several of the dancers from last night run over and hug and kiss me, while John, the teacher waves and grins at me. These people sure know how to make a girl from Georgia feel welcome and included!!!
The lesson was really fun to watch and I enjoyed chatting with one of the dancers while she waited to join in. When all way said and done, they all decided to go to another Milonga (dance) and invited me to join in. It is after ten o’clock and first they are going to someones home for a private lesson and then to a restaurant for hours of Tango. I know that you will all be terribly disappointed, but I was completely exhausted! Did I mention that our new Tango friends had invited us to go out of town tomorrow sight seeing? I have to get some sleep!!! So, with kisses all around, I made my good-byes and grabbed a taxi back to the house. Another day is done………….

Day 2 continued……….
So, you know the old adage about the best laid plans, right? I head back to the house and go across the street for some food. The restaurant has five small tables inside and no menu. What they have cooked for the day IS the menu! I¨ should take a moment to say that very, very few people here speak English. I kind of love that!! I hate it when people assume that other countries should speak our language and I try to be very cognizant of the idea that I am a guest in their country, so I nod and smile and go with the flow. 🙂 This, of course, gets extra interesting when you are ordering food! I ask for food and drink and sit down looking out of the window. The elderly woman brings me a hot soup with spinich and avocado and I am happy. THEN she brings me a huge plate of food , rice, beans, salad and a seriously unidentifiable piece of meat that has a huge bone in it! Well, I know better than to eat the salad…..that whole ¨no eating raw fruits, veggies or street food in a strange country¨thing. And I knew that I was not going to get along with that piece of meat. So, I enjoyed the rice and beans and moved the rest of it around so that I would not hurt her feelings. She finished by bringing me a grilled piece of pineapple.
Full to the brim, I head off to enjoy a nice long nap. I am out like a light when, at 8:00 there is a knock on my door. It is Njål and he says, “I am going to Tango…want to come?¨
Sigh…….
I have a serious problem here. First of all, I have a stead fast rule, especially when traveling in foreign countries. Never, ever say no to a new experience. But face it folks, I have serious body issues!! And I do NOT know how to dance! And the Tango, for crying out loud! I don’t know much about South America, but I am pretty sure that I will not be allowed to sit quietly and watch. No good could come of this. You see my problem.
Sigh………
Yes, of course I want to go.
We jump in a cab and he explains that a very famous Tango dancer from Colombia is visiting and is giving lessons at a persons house. We pull up to an apartment and pick up a fun, older couple that Njål met on the internet and start winding our way up to the very North part of the city. We arrive at a building and the man explains that we enter on street level and then take an elevator down 8 flights. We descend through a modern, gorgeous building in a wire cage of an elevator, and step out into a gorgeous apartment that has a wall of windows looking out over the city. Wow.
There are about 15 people there, all friendly and attractive, mingling and chatting. Every person introduces themselves to me, kissing me on the cheek. I feel welcome already. And it looks like I will be able to sit and watch. Yay me!!! 🙂 Everyone begins changing their shoes and the instructor, John, calls them together. The lights are lowered, impossibly rich music starts playing, and couples start dancing. I sit completely mesmerized. The Tango community here is actually quite small and these people all know each other. Njål was lucky to get an invitation to this and I feel really lucky to be along. The passion these people have for this dance is evident in every single step. A young man with long, dark hair walks over to my chair and with a smile, hands me a glass of hot, spiced wine. I sit back and Iet the music wash over me for the better part of an hour. Wow…..just, wow.
Later in the evening, everyone takes a break for food and wine and I take out money to pay the instructor. The dancers are all paying $20 apiece to learn from him, and even though I am not dancing, I felt like it was the very least I could do. The gift of this evening was worth so much more. As everyone began to dance again, I settled back in my chair for more. I looked up, however, and Njål was standing in front of me with his hand stretched out. He said, ¨Please¨.

Sigh………..
My stomach knotted up and I told him again that I was a terrible dancer. He just pulled me in and off we went. So this is what people mean when they say that it is so much easier to dance with a good leader. For some reason, I trust him. So I do my best to not embarrass him and we Tango away. All is good until the teacher steps in and re-starts class. I thought we were on to the ‘anyone can dance’ portion of the evening!! Now I am involved and no one will let me sit down. This is bad!! This is the equivalent of a first-time violin student being asked to sit in an ASO rehearsal. I swallow the butterflies in my stomach as Njål translates the teachers instructions. We are all to free-style our way through the group dancing with each other. Oy Vay.
I should mention that this is Argentinean Tango, not ballroom Tango. It is much more subtle and refined than ballroom. Also, in Argentinean Tango, everyone dances with everyone. Men with women, women with women, men with men. It does not matter and everyone puts all of their hearts into it, regardless of who they are dancing with. Men all learn from the beginning to lead as well as follow, so they are comfortable doing both. As we begin dancing, I have my first truly funny moment. Have you seen Dirty Dancing? Remember the very first party Baby goes to where out of the blue Patrick Swayze dances up to her, grabs her and dances for a while before just dancing off, leaving her alone in the middle of the floor? I had a true Dirty Dancing moment when the instructor came up and grabbed me, giving me a few swirls around the room. When he danced off, I was so relieved!! He is beautiful, and amazing and nice as can be and all of that….but he scares the MESS out of me!!! 🙂
The next few exercises involve taking turns with your partner, one of you leading the other around the dance while the other has their eyes closed. I looked at Njål and said, “soooooo not going to happen!¨. He just simply said ¨Please¨.

Oh man oh man oh man…..

You know that whole ´trust game´ thing you do where you let people lead you around? Not me. EVER. Between my fear of falling, lack of grace, and, in this particular situation, complete lack of know how, there is just no way I am doing this.

There is also no way I can say no to that ´please´.

So we Tango on. When it comes to closing my eyes, I just do it. I trust him. Don’t ask me why. We swirl around and from time to time I feel the breeze of another couple passing, or the hair of another woman brushing against my arm. I know that I am coming so close to colliding with these people but Njål never lets me.
As they move to the final, and truly too advanced for me, dances of the night, I sit back down. Midnight has long come and gone. The clouds have obscured the lights of the city and rain is softly falling against the window. The music has become achingly soft and the fire in the corner has burned down to embers.

I sip my wine and choke back tears.

Really, one person shouldn’t be this lucky.
Buenos Noches.
Anna