Daily life on the farm- After three days of hiking and hangovers, we decided it was time to start farming. If you've ever slept in a two man tent on bamboo at an incline then you know what it's like to wake up on the farm. We're out of the tent and making breakfast by seven. Breakfast is either eggs or oatmeal or some variation of those two. Mario, farm manager/shaman(seen below), arrives at 730 and work begins. We have had the pleasure of weeding and mixing cow/horse caca for compost for the last week. At 930 the bell rings signaling that it is tea time! Today was sweet oatmeal tea. Then a few more hours of work and the lunch bell rings. Lunch is a communal task. Each day one person prepares for the entire group. On our turn we made spicy asian pasta and salad made with greens from the garden. Then a few more hours of work and were done for the day. Despite a little exhaustion, we make it into town almost everyday to buy forgotten grocery items or to treat ourselves to a coke. Then we make dinner which is pasta or rice, onions, eggs, and aji(the best spicy chili). Then we play cards with the girls(seen below) and read/listen to music.

Night of the 24th...

On Friday we let loose (on a budget) and got beer, pizza, and went hot tubbing. Very American I know. In reality this entails walking twenty minutes to town (including our daily jump over rocks on the Rio Vazcun) to buy two dollar personal pizza´s from ¨Peperonis Express.¨Then on our way back up we bought 7 giant beers and toted all this back to the farm. We greedily ate the pizza. Then taught the girls Hearts (the card game) while playing a power hour amongst ourselves. Camden won on the last hand with a well executed (astonishingly well for the last few minutes of power hour) shooting of the moon. From there it was on to the hot tub! Tipsy river crossing is not what you might imagine. Though I did soak my foot on the way there drinking actually improves rock jumping form (because you aren't afraid to actually jump). The hot tub is the concrete block we found that collects natural hot water from the mountain. Getting back is harder. As we very unsuccesfully balanced one and then the other foot on the edge of the rock we dried and dressed. Crossing back over I forgot that there is actually a really easy leap from one larger stone to the middle of the river and there to the other side. So Camden tried it the hard way. He found a string of rocks connecting just enough to get him accross. But the jump was so far that, though he made it, he landed off balance. From my point of view all I saw was Camden land a huge jump, then take a step right into the water. One stone sank into the water, so I was forced to remember the actual crossing point. One of many great nights.


When it comes to conversation between me and Ben, we are never short of things to talk about because of one topic in particular. Food! Most people might see the beautiful flowers while hiking in the rainforest, but even with the constant stench of horse poop we are talking about pumkin pie and steak with blue cheese. This happens when you cut meat and cheese out of your diet. So when we arrived at sunday market we could hardly believe our eyes. Organized chaos in the form of food stands. As we walked through people would call out trying to sell us blackberries, strawberries, pineapples, pork, soap, and more. This would have been the equivilant of window shopping for really hungry people, but the food was extremely cheap. We bought a pound of pork from a woman who was hacking it up with a cleaver and trying to show us the different cuts she had despite the fact we had no idea what we were looking at. I didn't even know it was pork. Each stall had a similarly distinct smell and character. After a good hour of shopping, we had spent only 9 dollars and were ready to have some lunch. The pretty girl with an entire roasted pig infront of her caught our eye. We asked how much and she just kept saying as much as you want. Finally, Ben just asked what we could get for a dollar. So she started tearing the pork apart with her hands. The endresult was the best lunch we have had in Ecuador.

After lots of cool sightseeing we became tired of Quito and its theives. So on the third day we left Quito for Baños on the three and a half hour bus ride to the south. Baños is a small town under the Tungurahua volcano, 5000m, in a gorge over a river. It is a big tourist attraction for Ecuadorians looking to chill in the natural hotbaths.

We left Quito by bus for Baños, which cost us 3.5 per ticket. Not only was the Bus nice, but it came with a special kind of entertainment. Every fifteen minutes or so the bus would slow down as five or six very small people would jump on trying to sell everything from empanadas to illegal cds. We thought maybe the bus would stop to let them off but the bus driver would just speed up as they would jump off and the next set would try to enter. While this was going on, there was a movie playing on the new lcd screen. The movie was so violent that even as Americans we couldnt enjoy it. To add to all the existing chaos, we had a typicall South American bus driver. In other words, he was going 60 kph around turns with 1000 foot drop offs in the wrong lane! Probably the best bus ride of my life.

Baños is beautiful. We are surrounded by giant cliffs that are so densely covered in foliage the only breaks in the dark green forest are to allow sunlight onto almost vertical farms thrown onto the side of the cliff. luckily the trails go right up the side of these cliffs! Camden and I spent one day hiking up to Bellavista (a cross that over looks the city). We went on towards the volcano but had to turn back since our one bottle of water finished and the air became increasingly thinner. Hiking down only took twenty minutes, mainly because it was so steep that we couldn't do anything but run with the slope. The next day we went and found our first farm... it looks beautiful but small. It's twenty minutes from town toward the volcano, in a smaller town. After meeting the groundskeeper of the farm he directed us onto a great hike up the other side of the volcano. This trail follows the small creek at the bottom of the gorge created by past lava flows. Up the creek we found a natural hotbath in the side of the mountain, at about 100 degrees F it was a small pool perfect for a nice sit. Everything is still going really well we might not bl0og for a bit seeing as were going to the farm now.

(forgive our grammar)
The day had finally come. Nine months of preperation, hard work, and anxiety had all come down to the last day. Like any good Udwins, we left most of that preperation and anxiety for the last day. After packing and securing our money for the next year, not to mention many less significant tasks, we left for the airpòrt with only an hour before our flight. Luckily we made it. Our flights through Houston and to Quito were largely uneventful. On the plane we ate bad hamburgers and tons of great food from home (thanks Paula!). We whitnessed a great lightning storm over Central America and suffered chickflics without the sound (interjecxting our own plot line). We arrived at eleven p.m. in Quito.





Arriving in a foreign country for the first time is always a little scary. In our case we were arriving late at night in a city where the guide book had said not to be out past nine, not to trust the taxi drivers, and to be careful of which neighborhood you stay in. It was almost twelve when we finally got out of the airport. The doors opened to a scene very similar to what I had experienced in Haiti. There were tons of people everywhere and it seemed they were all calling to us to sell some service or another. A very small man wearing green ran up to us and told us he was a taxi driver, which was perfect because we wanted to get out of the airport asap. So we walked, and walked, and walked some more and Ben and I became suspicious of our so called taxi driver. He just kept saying "un poco mas". We had knives and a great hieght advantage so we kept following. By the time he pointed out his car we were already outside the gates of the airport and the car he was pointing to was not a taxi, but instead, a small black car with rims. I objected for a few minutes but he seemed really nice so we went anyway. It turns out the hostel we had booked was not a "good place" so we ended up letting our taxi driver choose the hotel. At the time it seemed like the only option. Luckily the hotel was nice and our first night ended without any major problems.

























We woke up to delicious bread jam and eggs prepared by the Dueño, a good start. We found a new cheaper more central hostel in the guide and set out with our huge packs and little knowledge of the city. We found the Trole (bus) station and squeezed the packs though the tiny turnstyles. Waiting in the suprising heat, i felt my heart drop as I saw the bus pull up.. it was crammed, there wasn't enough room for one of us, let alone the packs. Pushing our way on I focused on our destination, about five stops away. I have lived in both Mexico and Italy and not once felt the little finger creep into my pocket like the one i felt on that bus. i pushed it away realizing the woman infront of me was reaching in my pockets. Camden had been more careful and as I stepped towards him I realized i'd stopped one attempt but not the others. Someone already grabbed my wallet. In shock we got off right away. They'd grabbed my I.D. cards, $60, and my debit card. Once we found the hostel I had mom cancel the card. In truth we can survive losing sixty dollars but my pride still hurts more than anything.