Eco-Friendly Living

Quite of life of contradictions I lead. Prior to my integration into life at the eco-lodge, the extent of my ecological thinking was ¨I hope these steaks came from cows injected with flavor enhancing hormones¨or ¨boy the lake sure looks polluted today--lets go wakeboarding.¨ The delicious but mostly vegetarian fare there has made me think a little about if life IS possible without red meat. Don´t worry all you carnivorous consumers, I haven´t gone native--in fact just the other day Petro and I succumbed to the pre-disposition to red meat all mid-western born children inherit and snuck a hamburger and hotdog at a neighboring establishment (we are currently in the process of trying to procure meat to splatter with the bottle of Gates Barbeque Sauce the Schloegels brought down--we are presently just drinking it).

Biologically speaking, we are advancing in our bird-watching and animal species indentification. Now instead of saying ¨hey look at that pretty bird¨ we say ¨hey look at the pretty bird with yellow feathers.¨ I must say the guests are pretty impressed with our abilities. There has also been some getting used to my eco-friendly environment--for instance, when a gross bug or insect is pesking around--my natural instinct would be to swat the bastard, but now, conscience of where I am, I have to gently relocate it and say things complimentary towards it. ¨Boy that cockroach sure has an intricate design on its back.
I wouldn´t call us professional naturalists just yet as the lodge´s corn crop (albeit very small) was decimated by a wandering neighbor´s cow, an act that went totally unnoticed by the caretakers (us). We are talented in other ways.......
Things have kept interesting around the lodge. A string of entertaining guests including three Irish girls that we befriended many countries ago that came to visit and corrupt us with the moonshine they smuggled into the lodge.
For awhile, we were living Swiss-Family Robinson style in the main lodge with counter-weighted retracting ladders and open-air showers. There is talk of ¨family¨expedition tomorrow involving the owners and us climbing the adjacent mountaintop that supposedly is inhabited by monkeys and spectacled bears. Two to one we get lost.

Why say no when it feels so good to say yes,

BQ

Life at the Lodge

Just made a run into town in my new 1970 Land Rover (well, the owners) and thought I would give you a quick shout. Life here has been splendid so far, jumping right into our "hosting duties" which means essentially we are expected to just bullsh*t with the other guests--a tough gig I should say.....thus far we have been doing it sans cocktails so nothing horribly inappropriate has been uttered at the dinner table, but you we´ll see if that holds. Foot in Mouth is a disease neither of us has been vaccinated for. The owners, Tom and Mariela, are about the most genuinely kind and fun people I have met on this trip so far and give me a renewed faith in my occasionally cynical view of humanity. They also seemed to hold a supernatural ability to pick a winner as it only took them a couple of hours to conclude Petro and I were of the chosen breed.
Although not much of an orientation to our new life was given, my favorite directive by Tom so far was "if that happens, take all the guests and hide in the hills" (referring to what to do if a recent 8-man armed robbery on the neighboring lodge happened while Petro and I where holding down the fort). To avoid such an act we started a rumor around town that we killed a drifter in Chile, so hopefully that dissuades any potential bandidos.
According to our friend Elizabeth, this lodge was featured on the Travel Channel a couple of months ago, so you betcha this is going on our currently defunct resumes.

Off to schmooze,

9 to 5 Brian

Pics, Movies, and the Beach

Back in Quito after spending 3 nights on the nothern coastal town of Atacamas. Normally jammed with vacationers during the high season, the afro-latino town was tranquil and provided a good spot for R & R with the Schloegels. Once again, we found ourselves in the land of fresh seafood and trinket hawkers. To switch things up a bit one day, we used a contact we had procured at the cloud forest to go hand fishing in the mangroves in Bolivar, Ecuador. The only luck had was Jake snagging what seemed to be a rarely caught poisonous fish, which prompted his title to change amoung the guides from "the paying white man" to "the white devil who brings bad luck to our village." The fishing may have not been all that great but the 2 hour "scenic tour" we received via lawn chairs in the back of a pickup truck made up for it. Overall, trip brought out talent not formerly known--Jake had gained a proficiency for an interesting dialect of Spanglish and Debby, a knack for the art of a good haggle--a great success!---almost a great as success as Debby`s beloved KU Jayhawks, who clinched the National Title the day prior to thier arrival, making her week the best ever!*

*Authors note: In no way was I happy about KU winning, only a genuine happiness for the happiness of Debby.

All in all, the trip with the Schloegels was another one for the books--A big thanks to them for generously and undeservedly spoiling me rotten and providing an abundance of good times. Here`s some of the pics/movies of the 10 day jaunt--there's more in the linked photo album.

Not far from the cloud forest lodge is a series of waterfalls, which the locals present at the top of one told us we could jump off. They demonstrated this ability by throwing a rock in the water below and repeatedly reassuring "very deep" "very deep." We hit the bottom.

See below

Our incredible zip-line experience. Here`s Jake performing the Superman pose (thus fulfilling his childhood dream of flying).

More zip-line footage

Heading to the cloud forest lodge tomorrow to do some guest entertaining....we´ll see what transpires.

Business up front, party in the back,

Q

Hanging in the Clouds

I must admit I have been cheating on you--my heart has been elsewhere--with Jake and Debby Schloegel´s arrival to Ecuador has come a whirlwind of fun and adventure. With the big shoes of Andy and Jane Q to fill, the Schloegels came ready for action. They did not come empty handed either--their generous re-supply mission brought us the culinary joys of Ranch Dressing, Gate´s barbeque sauce, delicious home-baked friendship bread (thanks Vicky Springs!), and unbelieveably a sixer of Boulevard Wheat Beer. Home never tasted so good.
The journey started in Quito, trying to fulfill Jake´s unquenchable thirst for knowledge displayed on plaques and in churches, we toured the historical relics of the Old Town part of Quito. Petro and I supplemented our limited knowledge of Quito (and Ecuador in general) with lies to keep our touring guests intrigued. No harm, no foul.
Probably our best tour in Quito was to the Middle of the World, where we visited the precise location of where the equator runs. Amazingly enough, at that location a bunch of weird stuff happens--water drains directly down instead of swirling in a direction, people become slightly weaker and lighter, and Americans in the tour group become loud and unruly. Trying to fulfill Ugly American stereotypes, there was a lot of horse-playing done by us during that tour, which culminated with an argument between Jake and an Irishman over some astronomical issue discussed during the tour. After realizing that physical harm was coming his way, the Irishman conceded the point and we all felt relief for the narrowly avoided ¨gunshow¨ that follows questioning American wisdom.
After Quito we headed to Mindo, to explore what we consider a jungle and what Equadorians consider a cloud forest. Our lodge in Mindo was an amazingly built series of structures that blended well with the densely lush locale and was accessible by ferrying across the river in a little makeshift zip-line. Many visitors to the lodge are biology-oriented scientists or tourists because of the high concentration of various bird and butterflies species. So much so that a very knowledgeable guide in these areas is provided by the lodge to every group of guests. Having the same regard for bird-watching as the act of watching grass grow, we gave the guide his own vacation from that "excitement" and went to do the all the adventure activities that they area had to offer. Jake and Debby were given a first hand view of the joys of the liability-free manner in which adventure tour companies operate in South America. A ridiculously fun canopy tour (zip-lining over the forest valley), waterfall jumping, and refugee-style tubing down the rapid filled Mindo river occupied our days. Props need to be given to Jake and Debby for reckless abandon that they delved into these activities-- speaking for myself I was close to a pants soiling on several occasions.
Here comes the part where I tell you something that should very well be a lie but is not. After two nights or about a total of 4 hours of actual interaction with the owners of the jungle lodge (http://www.ecuadorcloudforest.com/html/lodge.html) they asked Petro and I to ¨host¨ their lodge for them while they spend a week or two vacationing and working elsewhere in Ecuador. No joke, these people must have contracted a mind-altering malarial flu overnight, as they are having us act as their proxies for awhile. As your boys are no fools, we promptly accepted and are due back to our lodge running duties right after the Schloegels depart. And so, if anyone has a hankering for spontaneous travel to Ecuador, come visit our lodge in the jungle.

At the moment we are now on the coast in Atacamas, Ecuador and are beaching it up until we have to be back in Quito on the 17th. I´ll give you the low-down on our time here along with all the pics and movies of the trip when I get back to Quito.


Su chico con suerte,
Brian

Quote of the trip so far: He´s not a boy Jake, he´s a man with a gun¨--Debby after Jake pointed out one of the many ambiguously uniformed and armed men who inhabit Quito´s streets.

Quito

Well, just what we expected: a major plummet in personal comfort--not many hours after we left my parents at the airport, we took a series of not so fun buses rides that shot us off the wave of comfort we had been riding, back down to the dirty depths of backpack travel. Our border crossing went without a hitch, although our sleep was interrupted at almost exactly hour intervals for bag searching and beauracratic formalities. Once daylight hit, we found ourselves staring at marshlands filled with flooded towns and stilted houses. The towns looked like havens for mosquitos and the diseases they transmit and the only rational I could see for living there was the absense of the means or opportunity for relocation. Next in the sequence of landscapes was the vast banana plantations that made me reminiscent of the banana republics of Central America. Like there, Dole Company appeared to be the primary landholder and seemed to bestow the same amount of community uplift that they provide elsewhere--nothing.
After about a full day of ass-numbing bus riding, we arrived in Quito, about 45 minutes shy of ended it all on the bus.
By luck, we found an cheap non-dorm room that will accommodate us until the arrival of Jake and Debbie Schloegel on the 9th. Already sick of the local S.A cuisine and the occassional chain restuarant indulgence, I was jazzed to stumble upon a dirt cheap Middle-Eastern ¨restaurant¨ with $1.25 Shwarmas. Long past caring about trifle matters like hygienic food preparation, the place has served as my dinner spot for the last two nights.
To change things up a bit today, armed with information from a backpacker club we belong to that tries to help foriengers in S.A., I went to the women´s prison in Quito with the intention of visiting a fellow American who was locked up on drug-related charges. Prison tourism is actually not that uncommon in S.A., although in some places the motives are not entirely humanitarian in nature. As in Bolivia, where many of the other backpackers at my hostel went to the notoriously unorthodox La Paz men´s prison (as written about in the book Marching Powder) to buy and use the cocaine that the prisoners actually manufacture in the prison. As one American girl who went explained to me: ¨I did it just to say that I did cocaine in a prison in Bolivia¨--a pretty remarkable story to tell the grandkids I guess...
I would like to think this visit was more good-willed in nature as I was bearing gifts and looking for a potential wife (just kidding Grammy). It is recommended when you visit to bring vital toiletries for the inmates as no such things are provided by the prison. So I did, along with my small backpack expecting a thorough searching and the likely confiscation of some of the items. Just like at the Lima airport, when I unknowingly passed through and flew with a meduim-sized pocket-knife in my carry-on, the security search was mainly for show and I am pretty sure I could have snuck through enough arms to faciliate a full out jail break. Aftering entering the prison, another inmate was kind enough to strong-arm money from me so she would go fetch this American girl. While waiting in one of the many unrestricted corridors in this quasi-prison, I noticed that their seemed to be a lot of non-sanctioned conjugal visiting going on inside. Since a conjugal visit was not on my scheduled itinerary for the day, I spoke with the American girl about her life inside and the circumstances for which she found herself there. Like almost all of the foriegners there it was for drugs, two suitcases in fact that a male friend convinced her to fly out of the country with. She had spent two years there already and still did not have her official sentence, but she was most likely going to spend the better half of a decade getting visits from random strangers such as I. She possessed an naivette that drew some sympathy but not enough to override the disdain I felt for her stupidity. Regardless, according to her, she gets little help from the embassy and relishes any english speaking visitors. The same was true with a South African prisoner who I spoke with. She and her mother had been there for quite some time and seemed to have adjusted well to incarceration as she openly admitted to relationships with guards and visitors alike. Lucky for all, a group of American missionaries had become regular visitors to the prison and provided free hair cuts and goodies for all inmates who had the mental energy to play ¨saved¨ for two hours a day. All in all, the visit was interesting and I even was given the contact info of the girl´s mother, who lived in Venezuala and who the girl said would put me up if I found myself there. After throwing that contact in the trash, I headed back into the city to get myself proper for the arrival of the Schloegels tonight. Fun times are expected ahead as the Schleogels are my favorite people other than my family and my new girlfriend at the prison.

Much to tell soon,

BQ

A Vacation from our Vacation

Again another prolonged absense from the blog trying to keep my self from the stress of our interaction. You´re just too damn needy.
The day of my last blog, we were in the midst of a hellacious day of travel. Plane from Cusco to Lima, 7 hour layover Lima, plane to Piura, and 3 hour taxi ride to Mancora Beach with a driver who we all initially thought appeared to have just exited a bar. Being all too tired to care anymore and having guessed he would eventually sober up under the legal limit within an hour or two (probably naively thinking that a legal limit actually exists) we let him initiate the slow crawl to the beach. Not 15 minutes on our way we were pulled over at a police checkpoint on the highway and as the officer approached our car a previously sleeping Petro semi-awoke up already reaching for his wallet to pay for the ¨fine¨ of being gringo in an area with corrupt police. All turned out well as the officer wanted to check to see if my seatbelt was fastened--and as it was, he was getting no money from us.
As all good things happen to those who sit 3 hours in a cramped taxi, we arrived to beautiful Mancora Beach, a semi-remote 3km stretch of paradise that I am hestitant to speak of lest the masses ruin its draw. We arrived to our beachfront hotel one day out of their ¨busy season¨and found ourselves occupying 2 out of the 4 rooms that were currently inhabited. With approximately one staff member for every guest, we had the run of the place, which was slightly perplexing to Petro and myself not being accustomed to such luxury. It was weird at first, like when they said we could not use their kitchen to cook or daily ration of rice and beans or when the the staff became upset when we tried to pitch a tent under tree in the parking lot. Sleeping in a room with a daily cleaning service and that didn´t reek of B.O. and stale hippies just didn´t seem fitting at first. Our descent into ¨the good life¨of non-backpacker travel began with our rendevous with Janey and Andy earlier in the week but didn´t really hit us until our arrival to the beach. We finally realized that we have been working really hard at not working and deserved the luxuries we had been bestowed. The following four days were filled with stress free bliss that was highlighted with marathon seafood eating and pool side drinking. Possibly our best day consisted of exploring the surrounding area on motor bikes and a dune buggy commandeered by the old man. Like good midwest boys, a good old fashioned trespass provided the most scenic views of the day. Later, Andy and Janey fulfilled the lifelong desire of running horses down the beach. Unorthodox modes of travel was the theme of the trip as our shuttling around town was done mostly by motorcycle taxis and later by our favorite mode of travel in S.A--a good old hitchhike that we got Janey to participate in. It was definitely a trip for the books.

Like most ill-gotten gains, our high life ended today with the departure of the parents back to the States. Although temporarily, we are back to slumming it again until our rendevous with the Schloegels in Quito, Ecuador in four days. The next couple of days of travel should really bite but the means justify the end, when the Schloegels get to re-unite with their favorite person and Petro.

Off to catch a stupid bus,

Sir Quarnstrom

Lost Boys Found in the Lost City

Alright, alright, I am guilty of a little procrastination on my obligatory reports back to you but things have been a little action packed lately. First we had the arrival of KC buddy Brian Meagher, who was down in Peru visiting his lovely girlfriend Lucia. I was able to meet up with those two and take in another day of glorious Peruvian sun at the beach near Lima. It was Brian´s M. virgin dip into the mighty Pacific and the landmark was rang in typical celebratory style with ceviche and beers on the beach. Later that night Petro and I met back up with the pair for drinks out after another heist at the casino. The routine remains the same: We put around $15 in the video poker and play for 3 hours while enjoying free dinner, drinks, and dessert and in turn cashing out at even or in Petro´s case everytime-up on the house. There has been serious talk of quitting our jobs (well, travelling) and staying in Lima as professional pretend gamblers. Our success at not losing money is going against everyting my sponsor at Gamblers Anonymous has told me. The big turning point in our casino fortune was figuring out the missing variable from our first experience--big tips. A few $0.75 tips throughout the casino experience has allowed our unrestricted access to the free fares and even got the loud old man roughed up outside because he was bothering our concentration.
Thinking our high life could not get much better, spirits were soaring--and were raised yet again with the arrival of the producer's of the golden boy: Andy and Janey Q. Sweet as ever, Janey lived up to her rep by arriving in Lima with the boy´s favorite cookies from McClains Bakery (this generosity would soon cease as the new trip trend of Andy and Jane is showering Petro with daily gifts--I have to keep reminded them he is not an orphan).
The trip has been a whirlwind so far. We spent the night in Lima, to wake up early to fly to Cusco. As the jumping off point for various expeditions to Inca ruins, Cusco is rife with 50-somethings fulfilling fantasies of Indiana Jones-esque adventures with their safari vests, brimmed hats, and enormous cameras. Under the careful eye of Petro and myself we have protected Andy and Jane from succumbing to such cliches and we have been trying hard at some anti-tourism activities such as playing rousing games of Lo Siento (our Peruvian version of the board game Sorry), drinking wine, and trying to soak in the joys of relaxed travel. After two days in Cusco we took the train to the town of Aguas Calientes, located just below Machu Picchu. From there we spent the night and woke up early to head up to the ruins. There was talk of writing a collective poem about our experience at Machu Picchu but Andy insisted on putting profanity in several parts of it, so the project was abandoned. The good news is that the pictures of the day speak for themselves. Not having much faith in hype, we were all pleasantly surprised to find that the ruins lived up to the honor as a member of the 7 Wonders of the World (8 once the committee officially recognizes the Lake of the Ozarks).

The trip back to Cusco was slightly marred with a train ride that was annoyingly plagued with a "fashion show" in which the train attendants strutted the aisles in different clothes in the hopes that some of the Indiana Jones wannabes would buy them (like good anti-tourists we fake asleep). After our train ride, a colectivo bus we were taking broke down in the countryside. Lucky for us the driver had a ball of twine and two paperclips because he was able to fix the bus and produce us safely back in Cusco. We are now back in Lima waiting for a plane that is taking us to the glorious beaches of the north. Will update soon with stories of the stay up there.

In other news, there has been some serious brainstorming lately between Petro and myself about possible themes and destinations for a future trip. The current consensus is an 80´s themed road trip across the States. We are looking for the following donations: A Camaro or Trans-Am with t-tops, a retro boombox, and a box set of Journey tapes. We will supply the jean shorts and tank tops. Let me know if you can make this dream a reality.

Once again, there has been some pervish talk in the comments section calling for more attention paid to sexual topics. Trying to appease all, I shot some footage of some gratuitous action.

Scary, I know.

Q