Greetings from Quito

Greetings from Marcela's fierce apartment, with tall windows and gorgeous views of the surrounding city streets, volcanos and mountains. Marcela's just gone to work, and Richard, my travel companion for our day of urban expedition, is still catching up on much-needed sleep, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to say hi.

After Marcela met me at the airport around 8pm last night, we dropped my stuff off at her apartment and had some mate. Another friend of hers was supposed to be on the same flight, but his flight to Miami was delayed--three times--out of mechanical errors (WTF) and when he finally got there, he missed the last flight to Quito by something like five minutes. We didn't know this at the time-- although I knew he wasn't on my flight because he texted me when I was in Miami-- and thought he might be on the next one. We headed out for a quick sushi dinner before going to meet him.

We stepped out and Marcela got to flagging down a cab. While we were waiting for one, she indicated the hot dog place across the street. I kid you not: a hot dog place. Hugely popular-- most popular one in town..."and they're nasty," she added. "See those people sitting in their SUVs, eating hot dogs? That's how popular this place is."

We went to a fun, trendy sushi place, at which Marcela discouraged me from ordering ceviche, which was at the beginning of the menu, because as she rightly pointed out, I could get ceviche anywhere in the city (and country). We sat at the bar and admired the chef's work, until it was time to run to the airport.

The airport was quite the scene. First of all, there's very limited room in the arrival hall so most people await their loved ones outside. Entire families, really cute babies, indigenous people in indigenous garb next to mestizos in all sorts of garb. Marcela finally called Jhon and learned about his travel troubles-- he'll arrive today.

Not much later, Richard did emerge from the exiting crowds. It was great to see him. He was a year ahead of us in grad school-- my first year, he and some other friends lived next door, and our respective sets of roommates would often hang out on the practically attached porches. I remember coming home once when they were having drinks on the porch; they invited me over, but I hesitated, to which my friend--Richard's roommmate--Melissa replied, "this is the best situation ever to have a drink-- if it's too much, you can roll home." Anyway, it was great to see him, and so much fun catching up.

It wasn't until I got to the airport that the trip fully registered. Even yesterday morning was crazy-- I did yoga (I've been slipping, but it's such a necessity before a day of travel), did another load of laundry, ran and emptied the dishwasher, made my bed, dropped off my real estate assessment appeal at city hall, got cash, called the City's juvenile department about a summons that had been taped to my door-- apparently for a relation of the previous owner, watered my plants and headed out. Once I got through security-- which actually took less time than getting through the baggage handling clusterf* that American Airlines has going on--I make a quick call into work. Sometimes I get restless before long bouts of travel, but it was so good just to be sitting down and to have my bag packed and checked. At that point, I really did feel like I was on vacation.

The flights were uneventful, relatively painless. Perhaps because a number of people missed the connection, there were a few empty seats, and I was blessed to have an empty middle seat next to me. I'm glad that my trip out was a few days after all the snow-related travel chaos. I read and slept through the movie but caught an episode of the Office and then 30 Rock, which I'd not seen before but found hilarious-- and not just because of the Janis Joplin references ;). Alex Baldwin had a great line, in the context of wondering if his newfound attraction could handle the removal of the crisis that sparked it. It went something like, "can two people really fall in love over a benign cyst in the gonads?"

The layover wasn't bad, either--it was pretty short and it was kind of cool to overhear people discuss their travel plans, which, in addition to just thinking of going and seeing these things, just fills me with wonder and aspiration like little else in the world. I've gotten quite caught up in house stuff, and I certainly do find myself thinking, "if I had that, things would be easier" or "that would look great in my dining room." And while I used the word "jealous" to express to Marcela my feelings about her walk-in closet, it's more a dismissive jealous. When I overheard someone at the airport describing her plans for the Macchu Picchu Trail, and when that evening, Marcela, Richard and I were discussing our own itineraries, thinking about those places and those adventures just feeds my soul. In the cab on the way back to Marcela's, it sort of hit all of us in a way that was more real than before: We're going to the Galapagos Islands. It's going to be awesome.

Back at Marcela's, we settled in... and got to making hummus for the soiree Marcela will be hosting this evening. While we cooked, Marcela offered us the contents of her fruit bowl. There was an interesting orange-like fruit that was consumed by slurping. I had half of one of those, as well as a pear. Marcela insisted that we wash the fruit really well. She said, "scrub it. With soap."

Marcela's been here for just over a year and for much of that time has been fighting a tropical sprue that's cost her ten percent of her weight. We're exactly the same height and used to try on clothing together regularly. Many years ago, at Benneton, I was debating getting a pair of pants, thinking I was at a lower-than-usual weight then and could grow out of them. I was at 107, she was at 115. We were both healthy. She's lost as much as I've gained, and neither of us is happy with the change.

A.: Is this sprue contagious?
Marcela: The sprue is mine and mine alone. You cannot have any of my sprue.

As other hazards go, Marcela warned us again of the depleted ozone over Ecuador. She said that as UV levels go, 0-7 is fine, 7-11 is be careful, and Ecuador is at 24.

Oh, another thing: even Marcela's shower is scenic-- glass doors and glass windows, so you get a view of the volcanos from the shower!