Drama in Cuenca

Last weekend I went to Cuenca, Ecuador with a friend to enjoy our final long weekend of the school year. Overall it was a good trip. I arrived on Thursday evening and flew back to Quito on Sunday morning. On Friday, the rest of the group went to hike around in a national park called Las Cajas. I'm not a big hiker, plus it'd had been raining a LOT, so they all had to wear rubber boots. And in addition, I was getting sick (though I didn't realize it then). All of these things combined to equal Leslie doesn't want to go. Instead, I spent the day by myself. This blog is about that day.

After seeing the girls off to their hiking adventure, I spent a liesurely morning in our host family's empty home. The rain, which had been falling steadily since I woke up, finally stopped around 10, and about 11 I decided to go into town to see the sights of Cuenca. This involves calling a cab, explaining where to come get me (the house was about 10 minutes outside of town), figuring out the alarm system, and hopefully leaving without setting it off. In the end, I decided to just try to hail a cab and avoid the phone call. You may recall my experience calling for pizza from my own house. So directing a cab to someone else's house seemed a bit intimidating. Anyway, I managed the alarm system and trekked up the hill to the road and waited for an empty cab to come along. Here's a picture of me at that moment:

A car or two passed. A cab or two passed, but they both had people already. I waited. I sang a song. I enjoyed the non-cityness of my locatioin. No cab. I briefly considered going BACK inside, messing with the alarm, hoping the alarm place doesn't call and say a lot of stuff really fast in Spanish that I didn't understand then the police show up at this house that wasn't mine, and then trying to call the cab place and give directions.

I waited longer. A car from the neighborhood pulled out onto the street. They drove slowly and looked at me, but then seemed to decide I didn't need help and kept going.

I watched a huge dumptruck pass and pondered whether, should a truck driver offer me a ride into town, I would say yes or not.

I waited. Another car, an SUV with a young family, pulled out of the neighborhood area onto the street. They, too, looked at me. And then a miraculous thing happened! They stopped and the man raised his eyebrows and pointed in the direction of the city. "Do you want to go into Cuenca?" he seemed to say. I, too, raised my eyebrows and nodded enthusiastically.

I was thinking at this moment of my friend and former roommate, Beth Berke, and how very Berke-esque was this thing I was doing.

I jumped into the backseat with a girl about 9 and a boy around 5. Javier and Gaby, the parents, were gracious enough to take me somewhere in the city where I could get a cab to the museum that I was trying to get to. So, I have experienced my first hickhiking ride!

[editor's note: in the course of our ride together, we discussed where I was going and where I was staying. I think these people were my hosts' next-door neighbors and I think they saw me come out of the house, AND I think that's why they gave an unknown gringa a ride into town. Kids, don't try this at home. Especially if "home" means the US]

So off I trotted, having been dropped of by Nice Neighbor Family, to hail a cab to take me to the museum. A $2 cab ride later, I found out the museum was closed. And it was starting to rain. Dang. But not to be thwarted, I pulled out my borrowed map and figured out how to get back to the main part of the old town. I started walking and thankfully the rain changed its mind and went away. I walked and walked and walked. Apparently the museum was kind of far away. Eventually I stopped at an internet cafe and spent $.25 for a half-hour of internet! I paid the lady, used the facilities (which had a hilarious sink set-up, seen here:)

and set off for the cafe where I was to eat lunch with Luke's host family. You may remember Luke, Christy's friend who's living in Cuenca to study Spanish? His host family owns the cafe and, having found out that I wasn't going to the park with the others, insisted that I come eat lunch in their cafe. So sweet of them. So I went to their place. It reminded me of the Greek family restaurant from "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding" because the family was wondering in and out the whole time. I ate and tried to pay (but was, of course, refused) and then the host mom drove me to the next place on my list- a shopping area. After some motherly advice (like use your umbrella and watch your wallet) she let me off in front of market square. Thanking her profusely I proceeded to a booth selling postcards and laboriously choose 8 (the lady told me they were 20 cents each, but when I asked for a discount she said I could have 8 for a dollar! I love it when bargaining goes well). I handed them to the lady and reached for my wallet to pay.

It was gone.

Trying not to panic, I squatted down and started taking everything out of my purse. No luck. The wallet was gone. I told the lady I couldn't find my money and she asked if I'd been robbed. I told her I wasn't sure, apologized, and headed back to the cafe.

My mind whirled as I passed the colorful market booths. I know I had it at the internet cafe, because I paid the lady. Maybe it was there? I don't know if I had it at the cafe because they didn't let me pay. My purse was on the floor there; could it have fallen out? Or could someone have grabbed it out of my purse? But if someone had taken it, why hadn't they taken my camera, too? Most of my money was in my jeans pocket (in case I got robbed) so there was less than $5 in my wallet, but my Censo (a government ID) was in my wallet. Could I fly back to Quito with just a copy of my passport? Sigh...

Back at the cafe, no one's seen the wallet. I continue back-tracking to the internet cafe. It's only one block from the cafe. I remember because it was much closer than I was expecting so it stuck in my mind. I walked the block.

The internet cafe was gone. Yes, gone. As in, not there anymore. I stood gaping in bewilderment at the intersection where it should have been. I KNEW it was only a block, but obviously it wasn't there, so I walked one more block. Still not internet cafe. It occured to me that maybe I walked the wrong direction for a block, so I went back to the cafe and tried the other direction. Lo and behold, the internet cafe sat quietly on its corner, where it'd been the whole time. :) I walked in and noticed that the same lady was there. I walked up to her but could tell that she didn't remember me. "I was here this morning" I started...

Her eyes lit up. "Si! Un momento..." She opened a desk drawer and pulled out my wallet! I swallowed hard so as not to burst into tears of relief. I thanked her sincerely and headed back to the cafe for the third time that day. "All is well- I found it!" I reported and continued back to the market area. The lady was still there, crocheting quietly. Truimphantly I held up my prodigal wallet and announced that I'd found it. "You weren't robbed?!" she asked. Nope! From behind her display she pulled out my postcards- she'd kept them out for me. :)

The rest of the day was less dramatic, though really beutiful. Here are some pictures of the scenery in Cuenca.