Since our last post, we decided to stay in Ibarra until the 15th to continue climbing on the competition wall. We are far more comfortable here, as we have made friends with the Ecuadorian climbing team. They have proven to be a great source of laughter and entertainment in a city where the best thing to do is go and climb plastic. It is not a huge team, but what they lack in size they make up for in heart. It is very inspiring to climb with such talented and determined individuals. Most of the girls are barely 14, but are climbing with strength and technique far beyond their years. The boys are beasts, and in between practical jokes and impromptu games of whatever meets their fancy at the time, they're tearing it up on the wall. They did not distance themselves from us at all, but immediately befriended us and encouraged us to climb with them.
Alas, there have been a few downsides to this trip so far.
Number 1: I accidently erased all of my photos from the first week of our trip, which included the videos of us cliff jumping in Mindo. I was going through my camera, playing with different settings and naively reformatted my pictures, which unbenownst to me, erases all of your previous pictures! Besides getting a rare incurable disease, dying and all those other horrible things, I thought that this was the worst thing in the world that could happen to me. (Wait for Number 2 and 3!!)
Number 2: Our trip to the coast. A one day trip on Sunday with Bagre, a coach from Cuenca that is going to be the head route setter at World's. We were going to relax, spend some time in the sun. Never mind that it was a 4 hour trip, that we had to wake up at 3:30 in the morning, and when we got there the sun was nowhere to be found. Nevermind that that particular day was the day that my insides decided they wanted out, not the way they came in, they were explorers and decided that down was the best way out, and as fast as possible. Nevermind that we were all pink tomatoes at the end of the day. Nevermind that the beach was mediocre, there were no bearable toilets to be found (not too good for my condition, a hidden beach cove was converted into a toilet at one point). No, all of those things are fine, just fine. The bus ride home deserves a number all on its own.
Number 3: So, because we thought 2 more hours at the beach would be worth it, we skipped the bus that would take us straight back to Ibarra, and instead took a 4:00 bus that first took us to San Lorenzo where we would take another bus to Ibarra. No big deal right? My God, were we ever in for a horrible, horrible suprise. The first bus was already full, so we were stuck standing for almost half an hour before we could scoop a seat. A pregnant lady later got on the bus, and because it was so crowded, her ready to pop stomach was smooshed against my face. We were about to recieve our incredibly poor karma for not giving up our seat to her. After waiting for half an hour at the bus stop at San Lorenzo and running across the street multiple times to a dirty disgusting toilet where turkeys lurked around, and two young boys ran around playing with large machinery, the bus finally arrived. Relief? Not quite. If we thought the other bus was full, this one was bursting. Bagre, realizing that this was the last bus, told us we have to try and get out. We literally elbowed our way through a sea of bodies, and inserted ourselves in the last single air pockets available. "In 30 minutes we will have a seat" Bagre said hopefully. Unfortunately, he was wrong. At first it was funny, we made jokes and kept up our hopes that a seat would open up. 2 hours later, the smiles had disappeared and I sank to the floor and curled up into a ball hoping that this would convince my contorting stomach to keep all of its contents. Horrible cramps were racking my body, and all I could do was sit there and focus all my energy on keeping from exploding. We had 10 minutes of relief when the police stopped the bus and we all had to get out. Unfortunately, Michael had a bag on his back and the police armed with large rifles sternly told him to put the bag on the table to be searched. Not understanding, he stared at the blankly, and they were not happy, motioning with their guns for him to put the bag down. Stacey and I told him what they were saying, and the tension disappeared. Poor Mike, he thought they were going to shoot him. The fresh air made me feel better, but soon we were back on the bus where the air was heavy with human persipiration. I don't really remember the last hour and a half, I was in a daze. When we finally arrived in Ibarra at 10:00 at night, we were all exhausted, hungry and cranky as hell. Unfortuantely, my stomach was getting impatient, so I begged everyone that we just go back to the hotel and eat whatever was in the room. I got reproachful stares from my siblings, motivated by their empty stomaches, but I needed a bathroom. Oh god, what a day.
The only positive thing about that trip that I can think of, is a cool picture I got of Mike walking on the beach. But...I still can't decide if it was worth it.
Yesterday, I spent the entire day in bed recovering, Stacey and Mike doing much of the same. I feel much better today. Mike felt poorly last night, but is much better today. Unfortunately, Stacey is now the receptor of the stomach curse, and she's been hurling all morning. Hopefully we all feel better soon, as we have to make our way to Quito tomorrow.
I can't wait to see the rest of my family and the Canadian team.
Love to all,
Vikki
Alas, there have been a few downsides to this trip so far.
Number 1: I accidently erased all of my photos from the first week of our trip, which included the videos of us cliff jumping in Mindo. I was going through my camera, playing with different settings and naively reformatted my pictures, which unbenownst to me, erases all of your previous pictures! Besides getting a rare incurable disease, dying and all those other horrible things, I thought that this was the worst thing in the world that could happen to me. (Wait for Number 2 and 3!!)
Number 2: Our trip to the coast. A one day trip on Sunday with Bagre, a coach from Cuenca that is going to be the head route setter at World's. We were going to relax, spend some time in the sun. Never mind that it was a 4 hour trip, that we had to wake up at 3:30 in the morning, and when we got there the sun was nowhere to be found. Nevermind that that particular day was the day that my insides decided they wanted out, not the way they came in, they were explorers and decided that down was the best way out, and as fast as possible. Nevermind that we were all pink tomatoes at the end of the day. Nevermind that the beach was mediocre, there were no bearable toilets to be found (not too good for my condition, a hidden beach cove was converted into a toilet at one point). No, all of those things are fine, just fine. The bus ride home deserves a number all on its own.
Number 3: So, because we thought 2 more hours at the beach would be worth it, we skipped the bus that would take us straight back to Ibarra, and instead took a 4:00 bus that first took us to San Lorenzo where we would take another bus to Ibarra. No big deal right? My God, were we ever in for a horrible, horrible suprise. The first bus was already full, so we were stuck standing for almost half an hour before we could scoop a seat. A pregnant lady later got on the bus, and because it was so crowded, her ready to pop stomach was smooshed against my face. We were about to recieve our incredibly poor karma for not giving up our seat to her. After waiting for half an hour at the bus stop at San Lorenzo and running across the street multiple times to a dirty disgusting toilet where turkeys lurked around, and two young boys ran around playing with large machinery, the bus finally arrived. Relief? Not quite. If we thought the other bus was full, this one was bursting. Bagre, realizing that this was the last bus, told us we have to try and get out. We literally elbowed our way through a sea of bodies, and inserted ourselves in the last single air pockets available. "In 30 minutes we will have a seat" Bagre said hopefully. Unfortunately, he was wrong. At first it was funny, we made jokes and kept up our hopes that a seat would open up. 2 hours later, the smiles had disappeared and I sank to the floor and curled up into a ball hoping that this would convince my contorting stomach to keep all of its contents. Horrible cramps were racking my body, and all I could do was sit there and focus all my energy on keeping from exploding. We had 10 minutes of relief when the police stopped the bus and we all had to get out. Unfortunately, Michael had a bag on his back and the police armed with large rifles sternly told him to put the bag on the table to be searched. Not understanding, he stared at the blankly, and they were not happy, motioning with their guns for him to put the bag down. Stacey and I told him what they were saying, and the tension disappeared. Poor Mike, he thought they were going to shoot him. The fresh air made me feel better, but soon we were back on the bus where the air was heavy with human persipiration. I don't really remember the last hour and a half, I was in a daze. When we finally arrived in Ibarra at 10:00 at night, we were all exhausted, hungry and cranky as hell. Unfortuantely, my stomach was getting impatient, so I begged everyone that we just go back to the hotel and eat whatever was in the room. I got reproachful stares from my siblings, motivated by their empty stomaches, but I needed a bathroom. Oh god, what a day.
The only positive thing about that trip that I can think of, is a cool picture I got of Mike walking on the beach. But...I still can't decide if it was worth it.
Yesterday, I spent the entire day in bed recovering, Stacey and Mike doing much of the same. I feel much better today. Mike felt poorly last night, but is much better today. Unfortunately, Stacey is now the receptor of the stomach curse, and she's been hurling all morning. Hopefully we all feel better soon, as we have to make our way to Quito tomorrow.
I can't wait to see the rest of my family and the Canadian team.
Love to all,
Vikki
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