Shell Weekend

Last weekend was a holiday weekend in Ecuador; Friday was Guayaquil Independence day. Guayaquil is the biggest city in the country, followed by the capitol of Quito.

Let's pause here to note that I still have trouble remembering which spelling to use for a big letter and which to use for the governmental seat of a country. This is mildly embarrassing to me as an English teacher.

Anyway, in order to make the best possible use of the vacation time, I opted for a super-cheap, get-out-of-the-city trip and joined five other AAI teachers (or more precisely, three other teachers and a chaplain) on a bustrip to Banyos and then Shell.

Another pause to say that I don't know how to put the Spanish accent marks into my writing for the blog, so I'm adding a 'y' where it doesn't belong in Banyos. Just in case you were wondering.

Thursday after classes the six of us set off for the bus station and were soon on our way south, toward the resort town of Banyos. The word means bathrooms or (as in this case) baths. Banyos is known for its natural hot springs. The trip took about 4 hours (probably an hour more than it should have) because our gracious driver stopped every so often to pick up people on the side of the road and charge them a reduced fair to ride standing in the aisle. Mind that this a reduction from the original price of $3. Moderately frustrating for us. Quite convenient for them.

Interesting tidbit about the long-distances busses here- there are bathrooms in the bigger busses, but all of them that I saw were for women only. It said so right above the door "Solo Damas". "Hmm," I thought to myself. "What if a man has to relieve himself?" I mean, 4 hours is a substantial amount of time. Lucky for me, I got to find out first hand. Here it is:

What Happens When a Man Has to Pee on a Long Bus Trip in Ecuador

1. said man gets the attention of the ticket-taker and expresses his need

2. ticket-taker rolls his eyes and asks the driver to pull over

3. man hops off the bus, stopping immediately in front of Leslie's window

4. man unabashedly relieves himself in full view of the entire population of the bus

5. Leslie's seat companion comments, "Wow, that's a lot of pressure to pee"

6. Leslie giggles, feels a little sorry for man, and remembers that she is indeed in a foreign country

7. man returns to bus and bus continues on its route

Anyway, we eventually pulled into our destination and hopped a cab to our hotel. It was pretty nice for what we paid. My biggest complaint was that my mattress rested at an approximately 30 degree angle. But the inclusive breakfast buffet made up for one night on a terrible mattress.

Friday we spent the morning and early afternoon wandering around the town, watching a local race (presumably in celebration of the holiday), and climbing down to and back up from a whirlpool. That was pretty cool. The best part was getting to ride on a zipline over a big canyon! I mean, it was awesome! And it only cost $3! If you're not familiar with a zipline, it's a big cable that's strung across the area where you want to swing (usually over a canyon, a river, over tree tops, etc.) and they hook you up with a climbing harness and strap you to the cable and you swing down to the other end of the cable. SO fun. Even worth having to climb back up the hill afterwards.

After lunch we packed up our stuff and hopped another bus toward Shell. We got off about halfway, so that we could hike some more, cause we hadn't done that much yet... (ahem) I mean, so we could go see an amazing waterfall. Note that I just saw Niagara Falls a couple months back, which dwarfs this falls. But it was really beautiful. Much narrower than Niagara, but equally intense. It was so loud that the sound drowned out everything else.

When I was finished huffing and puffing my way back up the side of the mountain, we got on another bus (this time WE were the ones flagging down the bus from the side of the road) for the remaining 40 minute ride to Shell. This was an eventful bus. I was hot and tired and a little queasy from the combination of three mini-hikes that day and a greasy lunch, and we were standing in the aisle of a bus that was careening around curvy, mountianous switchback roads. It was stuffy and hot in the bus. Then, the kid in the seat I was facing from my standing position in the aisle quietly turned his head toward his grandfather's chest and vomited pink nastiness onto it.

Oh man. Not good.

Then began a big flurry of activity as the grandparents (who were soon joined by the kid's mom) set about cleaning things up. I was fortunate enough to look over to check the progress in time to see the second round come out.

Now I'm not usually queasy, but that pink barf nearly did me in. By the time we arrived in Shell I was really ready to be off that bus. But after a half an hour or so I was feeling much better. We met up with some friends of one of our party, and went with them to the next town (10 minutes by bus) for pizza. Shell and Puyo (the neighboring town; pronounced POO-yo) are right on the edge of the jungle, and they're really small. You can walk from one end of Shell to the other in 15 minutes? I think about that. Maybe 20. So the aminety options are considerably more limited. Talking with the new friends we had just met, I felt (for the first time ever in my life) like the city mouse talking to the country mouse. I like the slower pace of the smaller places, but it helped me to appreciate all that Quito has to offer.

Saturday was pretty low key. I lounged around the HCJB guesthouse where we were staying all morning, reading a book, doing devotions, donating my blood to the local insect population, and humoring my companions by losing to them at Scrabble. After lunch we went swimming and then waited out a torrential downpour before going to supper. We went to a (pretty mediocre) Chinese place. On the way home we bought tickets for the bus home the next morning. That night we watched "Through the Gates of Splendor" at the guesthouse.

If you've never seen this documentary, I highly recommend it. It talks about the five families that moved to the Shell area in the early 1950s to reach a local and very hostile Indian tribe. All five of the men were killed in 1956 (including Nate Saint, an MAF pilot and Jim Elliott) by the tribe. It's an incredible story, mostly because after their husbands were murdered, the wives stayed in the area and eventually moved in to live in the tribe. At the time of the mens' murders, the tribe was the most violent people group in the world. Today, after two generations of work and sharing the love of Christ, the entire culture is altered. The statistics are amazing. You should watch it.

It was especially impacting to watch this film in Shell, where two of the families lived, and where today there is a monument to Nate Saint. It was strange to realize that these people were a lot like me; missionaries to this place (many of them were even graduates of Wheaton College). Not exceptional people. Just people who were obeying God, and whose obedience has led to a whole new way of life for an entire people group. Wow.

Sunday morning we packed up again and loaded ourselves back on a bus. This driver seemed to have a hot date in Quito, and we didn't stop once for extra passengers. We made fantastic time.

I had a great time. It was so nice to get out of the city for awhile. The humidity and bugs of the jungle also helped me to remember to be thankful for the blessings of Quito. :) Here are a couple pictures, with more to come when I figure out why Blogger is turning some of the pictures sideways...

This is at the whirlpool we climbed down to in Banyos

The view from inside a truck-taxi. This one was covered, but we rode in an open one from Puyo to Shell, which was especially fun because the two guys in the car behind us noticed how beautiful we gringas were and followed us, flashing their lights and passing anyone in their way to keep up.

This is one of the waterfalls we saw- the one I talked about. I'm still wet from the spray. This is pre-the long huffing/puffing climb.