Writings By Date| Ecuador and the Curse of Quito | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
We did our best to leave our week in Quito behind us during our seven-day cruise through the Galapagos Islands. But faced with the prospect of returning to Quito for three days before leaving for Lima, or dealing with another chance to be pickpocketted on a bus to Baños, we decided instead to change our plane tickets and leave the next day for Peru. Even at the airport, we had to wrestle with the Taca airline representative who insisted we pay her to change the date on our tickets. (They're actually Air Passes, so you can change the date for free. But phrasebooks don't really cover this situation very well, making for an interesting show.)
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| Virgin of Quito |
Since leaving Ecuador, things have changed for us. I find myself stopping whenever someone is walking too closely behind us to let them pass by. I spend more time looking at the eyes and hands of people around us than the sights we came to see. I have a hand on my wallet everywhere I go, unless I'm wearing the pants with the covered, zippered pocket. (Uh oh, I said too much!) I imagine I'll be worse when I get my new Palm — I'll probably wind up crazy gluing it to my hand to keep it from vanishing.
I have lost my ability to trust those around me, and it saddens me to be like this. I was raised to be a very open person, believing that everybody is inherently nice until they've proven themselves otherwise, with the exception of Oakland Raiders fans. However, our experiences in Quito puts this faith to the test. I'm sure that over time these feelings will dissipate, at least to something in between the two extremes. And eventually — after we're safely out of Lima — I'm sure to stop overcompensating when walking around. The rearview mirrors on my sunglasses are probably overkill, come to think of it.
When that happens, I imagine the part of me that wants to punish Ecuador with blaring warnings of "Don't give your money to Ecuador!" will be replaced with one of sympathy. Many cities have their bad areas — this one just happens to be as big as the city itself. And we've been lucky on our trip prior to now, so getting hit with this much bad luck at once may just be par for the course. Quito was just the sand trap.
But until then, the thought of anyone I know setting foot in Quito — particularly myself — sends shivers down my spine. About the only way I'd ever be found back in Quito would be if I were returning to the Galapagos and were forced to choose between staying there for the night or underground in a box. If it ever should happen that I'm back there, I plan on doing the smart thing: I'm leaving everything behind. Even clothes. So you may want to find another hotel when I'm there.
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