A Weekend Up North

Originally the three of us, Marie and Liz and I, had plans to go to Tulcán and Ipiales this past weekend. But as we were making said plans, I realized that registering my visa on Thursday would leave me without my passport for the weekend, so I couldn't leave the country...and once I told Marie how dangerous Colombia is for Americans, she didn't want to go either. So she told Eduardo that we didn't want to go, and he obediently changed plans. I was a little surprised that he didn't put up a fight, but figured that maybe he actually understood the danger of getting us kidnapped.

Classes ended Wednesday for the week of Easter holidays, and my mom went to the beach for the weekend. Thursday night, I went out with Liz, Marie, Braulio, and Jhemardín to Dragonfly. We had a couple of drinks and then couldn't decide where else to go. Eventually Braulio and Jhemardín went their own way, and us three girls headed back to my house. We hung out for several hours, goofing around and taking silly pictures and enjoying having time to ourselves in a comfortable house-space instead of a club.

Exploring the roof:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1718.jpg

Me and Marie, unable to peel ourselves off the floor for laughter:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1758.jpg

Me and Liz:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1767.jpg

We took off on Friday afternoon for Cotacachi. We found a nice hostal with a room for the four of us, dropped off our stuff, and wandered around the small artesan market in the center of town. After that we went down the road to a large party that was happening in honor of Semana Santa. There was a far more extensive artesan market, and when we reached the end of that, we found a concert being played by a rock band called Los Búfalo. Their music was an interesting mix of straight-up rock and Latino dance music. We hung out for a while and watched, then walked back toward town for dinner, which we found in a small, nice, and inexpensive restaurant.

Awesome stage setup:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1779.jpg

Me goofing around after dinner (yes, I did fall on my head when I was done; and yes, I was perfectly sober):
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1784.jpg

As I was sitting in the lobby of the hostal before going to bed, a large parade started going by outside the window. It struck me as an odd hour for a parade at 10:30 at night, but it went on for half an hour or so. The funniest part was the people walking behind the shoulder-carried floats carrying rolls of electrical cable, and following them, the people pushing gas-powered electrical generators...all to keep the lights on the floats lit.

The next morning we had breakfast in the hotel and then took off for Ibarra. Eduardo had told us that we would be staying at his friend's hacienda in Ibarra. Well, we met his friends in Ibarra...but when we had been driving an hour past the (very small) town, I began to wonder where exactly we were going. Clearly it wasn't Ibarra. As we were taking a drink-break on the side of the road and waiting for the rest of our vehicular caravan to show up, Craig called me and asked where we were. I told him I honestly had no idea, but with the few clues I had, he managed to find us on a map, and then unhappily informed me that we were under six miles from the border of Colombia.

Marie with my lion in Ibarra:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1789.jpg

When I confronted Eduardo with that information he admitted that yes, we were in fact where Craig thought we were. I relayed that back over the phone, and recieved some muttered threats against Edu for lying to us about our destination. When Marie asked him again a few minutes later to confirm where we were, he changed his mind and said Ibarra. But having already admitted once to the truth, I wasn't buying it.

As we got going again, I told Craig I would text him town names if I saw them, and then we promptly dropped out of cell reception. We drove half an hour up the side of a mountain, into the middle of nowhere, and stopped at...I had no idea what it was. None of us had a clue where we were, and I was miles out of cell reception. The countryside was beautiful, but we were confused. Eventually we figured out that we were at a bull-fighting ring, and some of the people we were with started setting out a picnic underneath a shabby shelter above the ring. At least, they claimed to be...but food did not appear for a couple of hours, only more booze.

Bored and goofy in the middle of nowhere:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1792.jpg

By three o'clock, we were still hungry, and bulls had not appeared - but Liz and I were quite happy with the rum selection. We were probably there about five hours in total. The food, when it finally showed up, was good, and helped us to sober up before we fell in the bull ring. A bunch of the guys went and got out pink and yellow capes and started playing with them, and then the natives who seemed to run the place started letting the bulls in the ring. They were young bulls, not the full-grown variety, but they were still dangerous. Edu got run straight over and somersaulted backwards head-over-heels, which panicked Marie but was rather spectacular to watch.

Torreando:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1798.jpg

Bull-fighting (video):
http://s258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/Videos/?action=view&current=100_1799torreando.flv

A walk in beautiful countryside:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1802.jpg

More countryside:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1806.jpg

As twilight fell, the bulls were put back in their pens and the food and drinks packed away...but the car that had been providing music had run out of battery. Another car was brought around to jump it, but once that was done, the guys managed to get BOTH cars stuck on a hill. All of us women stood and watched and laughed hysterically while the guys struggled for half an hour to get the cars up the hill. It was fully dark and damn cold by the time they figured it out. Marie, Liz, Edu, and I had seats in José's mini-SUV, which was definitely the best place to be. He's the owner of the hacienda, so he knows the area very well, and we went bombing down the side of the mountain so hard we were hitting our heads on the ceiling.

When we appeared back on the cell map, I called Craig to tell him I was still alive. The hacienda was ten or fifteen minutes from the ring, at the base of the mountain. When we got there I hung up so I could take my stuff inside. I had reception in the driveway, but when I got inside, my reception dropped out again. I was going to go outside to return his call, but my phone was out of juice, so I plugged it in and left it to charge.

The first thing I saw when I walked in the door of the ranch was something strewn across the floor under my feet. I pointed out that something had broken - it looked like pieces of a flowerpot at first - and someone pointed up. Following the gesture, I saw that it was actually a large piece of the ceiling that had fallen in. Wincing at what that might mean for the rest of the place, I followed whoever it was that knew where we were sleeping. Once again, the four of us were sharing a room, and I winced again when I walked in the door. It was musty, stale, dank, and dirty, and the two obscenely large guard dogs had followed us in and were walking on the beds. Shooing the beasts out was a problem in itself, but we eventually managed to shut them out.

Playing darts in the hacienda:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1810.jpg

Now, I'm not generally picky about the sort of places I stay in. As long as they meet some standard of decency, I'm fine - but the hacienda didn't meet any standard I could possibly name. I sat on the couch in the main room to join everyone else who was sitting around and talking and snacking, and nearly leaped up again when the springs tried to bite me in unmentionable places. It was the sort of furniture that you were afraid to sit on for fear of what might scuttle out when you did.

Dinner was the leftovers of lunch. After we ate, I wrapped myself in a blanket (my own; I refused to touch the ones already in the room) and went outside to hunt for cell. I found enough to assure Craig that I was still alive and not mad at him as he had been afraid of. When I came back in, Marie and Liz had made my bed with the blankets and pillow I brought. I appreciate the gesture, so I slept in the bed, even though I had been planning to sleep on the floor, as it seemed to be the cleaner option. I slept horribly; I didn't dare to roll over for fear I might touch some part of the bed, and I was freezing cold the entire night.

Entranceway:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1813.jpg

Guard-beast:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1814.jpg

At nine o'clock the next morning we were awoken by a loud, rude pounding on the door. We all nearly jumped out of our skins, then settled back into bed and started lazily talking and slowly waking up. A few minutes later, someone fired three shots right outside our window, and we all nearly died of a collective heart attack a second time. When that didn't get us to appear in the kitchen (by then, because were just plain pissed off), someone opened the door, let the dogs in, and closed them in with us. Our yells of protest brought no sympathy, so Liz leaped out of bed and kicked out the beasts.

"Breakfast" was sandwiches made of the equivalent of Wonderbread, obscenely chemically preserved ham, and mustard. We all agreed with horrified looks that the shower was not to be touched without a hazmat suit, then got dressed and went outside, following the sound of more gunshots. In the car the afternoon before I had been introduced to one of our "bodyguards'" guns, a Glock .40. Three of the guys on the trip were carrying, and I was excited by the idea that we might get in some target practice.

I only got in one shot, which I don't count as "practice," but I hit what I aimed at, which made me happy. Liz even got a video of said shot with my camera.

Shoot 'em up (video):
http://s258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/Videos/?action=view&current=100_1812glock.flv

Odd pic with spent casings:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1815.jpg

Hacienda's yard:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1816.jpg

Main room:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1820.jpg

We took off relatively early, around ten o'clock, and had lunch in Ibarra, then finished the drive back to Quito uneventfully, with the one exception of viewing a rather spectacular car wreck.

Can you find the car??? Hint, it's silver:
http://i258.photobucket.com/albums/hh276/keskipper/100_1831.jpg

Though it was nice to get out of the house for the weekend, the fact that I count myself lucky not to have fleas now is rather more disturbing than I was aiming for.