This weekend Ryan and I along with a great new friend took a red eye bus from Quito to the beach town of Atacames in the province of Esmeraldas.  The bus ride was about 6 hours long and we arrived to our destination about 5:45 am and totally bleary eyed and catatonic from our long overnight ride. We boarded a rickshaw taxi and checked into the first hotel listed in our trusty travel guide. We climbed into our bunk beds and proceeded to sleep into about 10 am when we were awoken by the Reggaeton music that is ubiquitous in Atacames.  We started off our day with a bowl of delicious Ceviche de Camaron, which was a refreshing dish consisting of shrimp, onion, and lime juice paired with a bowl of fried banana chips and an appetizing tall glass of chilled coconut milk.  I am a huge fan of breakfast foods and this dish will definitely give llapingachos a run for their money as my current favorite meal in Ecuador.  Atacames is your typical little beach town complete with vendors, thatch roofed huts serving cold drinks, and tour guides offering boat rides to the surrounding beaches.  For only about 1o bucks a person per ride we were able to visit the beaches of Sua and Same, the mangroves and the Island of Birds that was home to dozens of blue footed boobies.  Atacames was a much needed change of pace and is definitely a good time for those visiting the Northern coast of Ecuador.

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So yes, Baños was a wonderful getaway and we soaked up the scenery, soaked in the hot springs, and then got soaked on the river.

Little did we know our luck was about to change.

On our way back from Baños, we split up and took two different buses. Laurene and Freddie needed to get back to Quito to work/find work the next day so they left after lunch. But I didn’t have any pressing engagements (let’s be honest, no job prospects in sight) so I was contemplating traveling further south for a few days. After much deliberation, I ended up going back to Quito, so I took an afternoon bus with Evan, our field producer and cameraman.

We were seated in the last row of the bus on the right hand side. On the left side of the bus there was one additional row of seats further back that were directly across from the bathroom. Our bags were under our seats, and our seats backed up against the bathroom.

The 4-hour bus ride had lulled me to sleep and by the time I woke up about 30 minutes from Quito, our camera was missing. We searched frantically all around us, on the top shelf of the bus and under our neighbor’s seats. They noticed us panicking and one young couple offered to help: the girl went to talk to the bus driver, who called the police. (more…)

Last weekend we took a trip to a little resort town called Baños, which is famous for its hot springs. It was a wonderful way to unwind after navigating the city streets of Quito, but what sticks out in my mind was the bus ride there.

Baños is nearly four hours away from Quito, and halfway through our ride two young women carrying babies boarded the bus. Our bus was already full, so they stood in the aisles. I kept waiting for someone to stand up and give them a seat, but no one budged.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. It was outrageous that in a bus full of people, no one would give up their seat for a young mother carrying a baby. I walked to the front of the bus and offered the women my seat. One of the women squeezed past me with her baby and sat down. A few moments later, a few people got off the bus, and the other woman (who turned out to have a second child in tow) sat down on a plastic stool crammed in the last row of seats.

The polite Westerner sitting next to the young mother offered me his seat. The mother had her arms full with the baby so her young daughter sat on my seat with me and I held on to the little girl as the bus jostled us along the bumpy road.

In my broken Spanish we tried to strike up a conversation. It hit me like a tidal wave when she said she was the same age as me – 24. Except unlike me, she had three children and had been married since she was sixteen. She was on her way to visit her husband, who is stationed in the army three hours away from her hometown. She makes the 6-hour trip every two weeks to see him. When I asked her for how much longer he will be in the army, she said, For life. (more…)

(Version française plus bas)

The Vietnamese are really outgoing and I have found it easy to make local friends. Up until recently, “23/9 park” on Pham Ngu Lao boulevard had been my main channel for making friends.

I met Yen at the aerobics class that takes place in the park everyday at 6.00pm. We connected right away and since then, she has introduced me to many of her friends. I also met Nhan- the one who took me to Ky Quang orphanage- at the park when she and other Vietnamese students asked me to practise English with them. I ended up sitting there for three hours answering their questions about France, the US, Vietnam, politics and cinema. Then Nhan introduced me to her own friends.

Making friends: Anh and Yen

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There are a few events that happen as we go that make me really feel like we’re in Asia. One of those things is when your bus dies. It’s not like at home where they’d send a new bus to pick up the passengers or have the bus repaired – they enlist the passengers to help out. Take a look for yourself: