Shamans and Guinea Pigs in Ecuador

« Return to Ecuador

We’re all a little exhausted by the time we drive into the countryside to explore a cocoa plantation, where Guayaquil’s elite have gathered for a charity horseride along with a luncheon of paella, crepes, and mojitos. I learn something about chocolate, how 400 cocoa beans makes one pound of chocolate, how to crack open a cocoa pod, splitting the heavy red, football shaped shell in the middle. We follow the process, the drying in the sun, the chocolate making machines, the Hacienda owner explaining how he’s hoping to make exclusive organic destination chocolate. We buy huge slabs of chocolate, 55% cocoa, the perfect gift for chocoholics. An hour later, I’m body surfing with Sean in the warm Pacific, the setting sun casting a cool wind over the beach. It’s time to call the Shaman, find out what he saw in his dreams, in mine. Over Juan-Diego’s Blackberry, he explains that the curse has lifted, although he did manage to see that it emerged from a couple, that a man and women would bid me ill, because of my job. It’s a pretty acute reading, given that the Shaman does not really know what my job is, and further, more than a few people are envious about my job, and envy seldom breeds goodwill.

Another great meal of ceviche, another early morning flight, arriving back in Quito, and straight off to a football game, baking in the high altitude sun, the sky a crystal blue. We last as long as we can, before heading back to the start, the hotel Patio Andaluz, for a few hours of rest. I can’t remember the last time we went this hard. I channel one more gust if energy for the Chiva Bus, a brightly lit party bus with a full horn band on the roof, a great way to see Quito and party in the process. I pull in strangers from the street - gringos and locals – the horns blaring, passersby clapping, traffic trailing behind us. I hop aboard the roof, grabbing some giant cymbals from a young musician, and bang away with glee, like some sort of King of Quito. I half heartedly suggested we head to the Gringo District, where the backpacker who discovered South America four years can ride atop a partymobile in triumph, Ecuador at last, with a TV crew at the fore, and a suitcase back at the fancy hotel. Except, with all this amazing country has to offer, all I could manage was a plate of guinea pig, a visit to a Shaman, some iguanas at Guayaquil’s Bolivar Park, cocoa, football, ceviche, a house party, a bus party, a swim in a volcano crater and the warm Pacific Sea. Not bad for seven days mind you, but as always, so much more to discover next time.

Flight AA466
Somewhere over the Caribbean
September 15, 2009

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