Super duper mercardo

"An onion can make people cry but there's never been a vegetable that can make people laugh" 
Will Rogers

I am not sure if I should have laughed or cried at my awful Spanglish as I attempted to teach Cynthia, my Ecuadorian Cocinera, how to cook  Americano.  It would seem less arrogant to try and prepare meals the Ecuadorian way.  However, this is easier said than done when it takes me hours in the grocery store figuring out what everything is.  Consequently, the groceries I buy would not suffice for a local recipe since Cynthia needs amongst many things Achote, whatever that is. Perhaps I need to swop out the bright lights and air conditioning of my now habitual Super Mercado and wander down to the local mercado to really find what I need?

"Ever consider what pets must think of us? 

I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul - chicken, pork, half a cow. 

They must think we're the greatest hunters on earth!" 

Anne Tyler

Aside from my search for elusive ingredients, my Western culinary skills are viewed suspiciously, judging by the raised eyebrows and the incredulously confused stares from Cynthia.  I can't blame her for the skepticism, considering that the other day I couldn't figure out why the green dried beans were not rehydrating when I soaked them in water for hours.  Imagine my surprise as my 'kitchen angel' Cynthia picked one up and peeled it revealing a succulent blanco frijole beneath.  It has been a cultural culinary interchange of note. Using charades and much patience, we manage to conjure up three squarish meals a day. 

"The way you cut your meat reflects the way you live."

Confucius

Not that there haven't been glitches. One particular setback elicited an audible gasp of horror from me which I quickly swallowed into a smile and a quick "no problemo" when I saw my Cocinera's crestfallen face. It had taken two gentleman at the 'Super Mercado' meat section to decipher that I was looking for bbq meat. My inner hunter gatherer beamed when I finally procured a fat slab of carne. Visioning a hunk of rare steak on my plate later, I hauled my big game home. Imagine my dismay as I walked into the kitchen and saw it filleted into thin slices by Cynthia. Shame on me, it didn't take long to figure out this was the most inventive way of tripling the food on your plate. Perhaps it was the excess of life in my Western world that I should be questioning not the girth of my steak.

"Fish, to taste right, must swim three times 

- in water, in butter, and in wine."

Polish Proverb

Just as I was pondering my over indulged and well provisioned lifestyle the remarkable matriarch of Monica's family, Dorothy, arrived with a bucket full of squid, large shrimp and several lobsters she had purchased from the fishermen at the beach in town. I quickly dropped all thoughts of food frugality as my iodine starved inner mermaid drooled over the seafood. Dorothy quickly showed me how to pull the 'pluma' from the squid and remove the guts and ink sack. It seemed to be a sin to put the seafood in the freezer when, from my window, I could watch the last of the fishing boats heading back in with their catch of the day. But, this was too much seafood even for my gluttony. 

"shrimp is the fruit of the sea" 

Bubba, Forest Gump.

I'd had several days of butchering the language and simultaneously clambering up the steep learning curve of homeschool and kitchen escuela when I gratefully accepted Dorothy's kind offer for an expedition to show me the local mercado.  It's a local place where the food meets the people. Not the fancy styrofoam plated, cellophane wrapped food that resides in the well lit aisles of my usual shopping haunt. No, this is the place where the food is still animal, vegetable or mineral. Where the person who grew it, caught it or killed it is still hanging out with their goods.  

"Fish is the only food that is considered spoiled 

once it smells like what it is."

P.J. O'Rourke

"Ham and eggs - A days work for a chicken; 

A lifetime commitment for a pig" 

Unknown.

"Keep as near as ever you can to the first sources of supply

—fruits and vegetables." 

B.W. Richardson

Granted, the mercado was probably not at its best due to the heavy overnight rain which had turned the streets into mud. But Dorothy is a commanding presence and the parking spot right in front seems to be waiting for us. The little old man with no teeth mutters us a greeting and I realize that this is a well practiced routine and the car will be watched over. I want to be Dorothy when I grow up, tall and elegant, with an emphatic presence, wearing a beautiful gold necklace, she leads me like a rubia lamb into my first dimly lit alleyway. 

"The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese."

G.K. Chesterton

Throwing caution to the wind and knowing this would be blog photo heaven I pull out the camera.  I barely have time to switch it on before I am invited to taste the cheese from a small glass cabinet. I focus on the white spongy sort of feta looking block that is jabbed towards me on the end of a long knife. Taking a small step forward and a huge leap out of my comfort zone, I pop the queso into my mouth. Willing my gastro juices to zap the innocuous white cube with full acidity, I smile sweetly and ask Dorothy to tell the eager cheesemaker I will be sure to buy some on the way back out. With satisfactory nods all round I am free to squelch forward to the meat cubicle. 

"Red meat is not bad for you. 

Now blue-green meat, that’s bad for you!"

Tommy Smothers

My steward nods approval at a large section of beef which is still shaped like part of a cow. I nervously ask if she would have them grind it down for me, I need it to look a little less bovine.  

"Yeah, where I come from, we eat our sushi cooked—medium rare. And it's made out of a cow." 

John Henson

With no time to lose, Dorothy introduces me to more helpful vendors scattered throughout the produce cubicles. 

"Of plants tomatoes seemed the most human, 

eager and fragile and prone to rot."

John Updike

With every handshake I imagine myself at the kitchen sink neurotically scrubbing the tomato looking fruit I had just bought. Dorothy wisely advises me to choose the firmer fruit and let it ripen then turn it into delicious juice.  Wandering further a central courtyard opens up into a huge fish market and my camera shifts into overdrive.

 

“The crab that walks too far falls into the pot” 

Haitian Proverb

I have hit the jackpot of food, this is way better than any western supermarket, this is a 'super duper' market.  There is everything I can desire, one shellfish vendor even shows me a pearl from a mussel and a tiny seed from a clam. 

"All art is autobiographical; 

the pearl is the oyster's autobiography."

Federico Fellini

As I stare at the pearl, the Ecuadorians stare at me, unsure as to why I am so amazed, this is simply life at the mercado.  My enthusiasm must have been contagious as some of the vendors are happy to pose for photos along with the fish, I even grow bold enough to ask for smiles in Spanish although I'll never remember the word for that. 

I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead

 - not sick, not wounded - dead."

Woody Allen

With Dorothy as my chaperone, I was able to lose myself amongst the stalls and really absorb the flavors of the place. I love the cultural differences, it's all part of the adventure. Yet, I would never have dared to go to the market alone. Perhaps Dorothy was just sizing up my mettle, but with this choice of produce I fervently hoped to be invited back.  

It felt good to be part of the food chain, to meet the vendors and see some of the small trucks the produce had arrived in.  It was very humbling to shake hands with farmers, fishermen and butchers instead of merely brushing shoulders with the shelf stackers in the air conditioning of a supermarket.  I realized how uneducated I am in appraising and picking the best produce.  My western technique of simply choosing the least damaged plastic container was woefully inadequate.  I left the super duper market with heavily laden plastic bags cutting into my hands and a large smile on my face.

"My kids always perceived the bathroom as a place where you wait it out until all the groceries are unloaded from the car" 

Erma Bombeck

I wondered if the kids would help me unload the bags if I brought them back some corn icecream?

Spanglish Paradise

"The people of Ecuador today have decided to save the republic, a republic of hope, in whose streets and green fields should flower dignity, hope, equality and happiness." 

Alfredo Palacio

South America has that extra gene of excitement deep within its nucleus.  Staring out from the cool of my ivory hotel tower I was able to luxuriate in the vibrant colors of the city without surrendering to its sultry fever.  But the sounds of city traffic permeated our bubble and reminded us that our gracious host Monica was on her way to collect us and drive us out to the coast.

"Hug your kids at home, but belt them in the car."

Author Unknown

We gratefully loaded up into the private minivan and enjoyed the  fantastic quality of the highways.

As we sped away from the city the manmade vista was replaced with a carpet of green.

A blonde driver is pulled over by a patrol car. 

The officer approached the driver’s door. 

“Is there a problem, officer?”
“You were speeding. Can I see your license please?”
“I’d give it to you but I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have one?”
“I lost it four times for drunk driving.”
“I see. Can I see your vehicle registration papers please?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I stole this car.”
“Stole it?”
The blonde says, “Yes, and I killed the owner.”
At this point the officer is getting stressed. “You what?”
“The body is in the trunk. You can look if you want.”
The officer slowly backs away and calls for back up. Within minutes, five police cars show up, surrounding the car. A senior officer slowly approached the car, clasping his half drawn gun.
The senior officer said, “Could you step out of your vehicle please!”
The blonde stepped out of the vehicle. “Is there a problem, officer?”
The officer responded, “Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car please?”
The blonde opened the trunk, which was empty.
The officer said, “Is this your car ma'am?”
The blonde said, “Yes,” and handed over the registration papers.
The officer, understandably, is quite stunned.
“One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.”
The blonde handed a license to the officer.
The officer examined the license. He looked quite puzzled. “Thank you. One of my officers told me you didn’t have a license, stole this car, and murdered the owner.”
The blonde replied, “I bet you that liar told you I was speeding, too!”

"Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions."

Pablo Picasso

The rainbow of colors increased as we crept into the outskirts of Playas.  The vibrancy resonated as we wound through the busy streets and then into the northern suburbs.  The gate guards bristled to attention on our approach to the compound, then softened slightly in recognition as we slowed and beeped our way through the open boom gate. 


The staff of our new home greeted us with smiles of welcome while we wandered around the tranquil paradise.  Our footsteps echoed on the terracotta tiles, this home was so much bigger than anything we were used to - I had pangs of agoraphobia.  Beyond the  deck, the bay offered several right handed pointbreaks in the distance.  Bathed in a balmy breeze, I knew this place would more than counter the horrors of the homeschooling ahead.  However, I have to admit the following morning the kids ran, yes actually ran, to get their books and begin their non-conventional education.   

"Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven."

Henry Ward Beecher

Looking back as we took our first walk along the beach, I was amazed by the high stone walls. Contoured to the land and slanted for strength against the high tides, the engineering was outstanding.

"It is almost impossible to watch a sunset and not dream." 

Bern Williams

The staff here have little English, so ready or not my dream of speaking Spanish was thrust out into the Ecuadorian daylight. I tell the good folk here in francospanglish (with spatterings of German), that they are "mi Angels" and they smile and nod. I follow that unadulterated blandishment with "americano (fill in the blank) es loco" and end with an apologetic "perdon me rubia tonta". I have them laughing if nothing else.

"Hands that give also receive." 

Ecuadorian Proverb

Our marvelous hostess, Monica offered to take us to the "Super Mercado" only 5 miles away and we bit her hand off at the chance to do some grocery shopping.

"When people you greatly admire appear to be thinking deep thoughts, they probably are thinking about lunch."

Douglas Adams

The least we could do was offer to buy lunch afterwards. Perhaps the large statue in the middle of the room was an auspicious sign.

“More than anything, 

it was the blue dolphins that took me back home.”

Scott O'Dell

What with the dolphin statue and a Carl's Jr. this was all starting to feel like Santa Barbara. It was time to return to our homestead paradise and climb back up the stairway to heaven. 

"can you hear the wind blow, and did you know

your stairway lies on the whispering wind" 

Led Zeppelin

It had been a long day and I was ready to prolong this Ecuadorian bliss in my dreams.   

"What is this realm of nirvana which leaves nothing behind?"

Hindu Prince Gautama Siddharta

Midnight at the Oasis

"Heaven's holdin' a half-moon

Shinin' just for us"

Maria Muldaur

I managed to stay awake on our final flight from Miami to Guayaquil by watching the movie Runner Runner. Set in Costa Rica, I thought the Hispanic connection would be a good entertainment choice. A very clean cut Justin Timberlake joined Ben Affleck in his corrupt offshore gaming ring. Predictably it contains a tense airport scene, set in a grimy, dimly lit passport control with the obligatory Central American ceiling fans. The burly customs agent matched his green army uniform with immense black boots and Cuban dictator facial hair. Unsurprisingly, the concocted passport problemo manifests into a wide eyed Justin being dragged into a back room lit with a single bulb. The statutory wooden interrogation desk allows for appropriately intimidating fist slamming and is followed, of course, by the surprise discovery of a small packet of planted white powder in poor Justin's luggage.

' I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.' 

Joseph Conrad

Note to self, poor movie choice.  Then, as if to blow my stereotypical worries right out of the Aeropuerto, Guayaquil welcomed us with a beautiful arrivals hall.  Even at 11.30pm the marble floor shone with hospitality and mirrored the modern polished glass and metal interior.  The long passport line moved efficiently forward with a ping and change of electronic number on the large screen suspended from the roof.  As we shuffled further I craned to see from 1 to 36, row upon row of Stepford Ecuadorian custom ladies.  Each one dressed in a dapper navy skirt and jacket with hair pulled back in beaded combs.  Not a Cuban dictator look alike in sight.  Number 8 pinged and it was our turn to approach the fast typing entry guardians.  

I had hoped the line would be long so we would 'enter' in after midnight thus giving us an extra day on the 90 day visa.  With that self fulfilling prophecy of doom we finally shambled through to the luggage carousel in time to watch the porters chain up their large luggage trolleys for the night.  Luckily my repetitive psychotic emailing to the Hilton had paid off and my warning of mucho luggage meant my amigo (sporting a board with my ever so welcome name upon it) spotted us before I saw him.  After 21 hours of traveling I searched for the kind of sophisticated,  sentence Ben had just used to command attention and squeaked out "Ola".  

"Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?"

Erma Bombeck

We stepped out of the frigid sanctuary of the airport concourse into the humid sultriness and the tropical Ecuadorian night wrapped tightly around my overdressed form.  After living for 6 months with no rain, the moisture in the balmy breeze was a velvet caress that only a desert dweller can understand.  We sweated and cursed at the ridiculous amount of bags and boards we stacked into the bus.  All the while, the Gods of Ecuador's midnight oasis smiled benignly down upon us.  

“The best protection for the people is not necessarily to believe everything people tell them”

Demosthenes

I was overjoyed to see the protection investigation team was parked out front of the Hilton, but my attention was soon diverted to the patrolman wearing what I would describe as a Falujah flak jacket.  As I sweetly told the man behind the reception "Buenos nachos" and confined in him that I was "moi caliente" (I'm a real hottie), he politely raised one eyebrow and checked us in. 

This was the first time I would see the flag of Ecuador, the yellow stripe represents the crops and fertile soil, the blue stripe the ocean and the red the blood spilled by heroes.  My weary eyes struggled to make out the coat of arms in the middle of the ensign as we rode the glass elevator high above the flagpoles, up to our room.

"Bubba and Junior were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking up. A woman walked by and asked what they were doing. "We're supposed to find the height of the flagpole," said Bubba, "but we don't have a ladder." The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement and announced, "Eighteen feet, six inches," and walked away. Junior shook his head and laughed. "Ain't that just like a dumb blonde! We ask for the height, and she gives us the length!"

Rubia Tonta Rides Again

"Hi ho Silver, away!"

The Lone Ranger

The suitcase wheels echoed in our home, sparse of belongings and the knot in my stomach signaled imminent departure. But I didn't need the auditory and sensory cues, my emotions were already waxing bitter sweet along with the full pale moon. 

Everything had been stripped down to the bare essentials including my sentiment. The possessions were easily packed away, the real treasures were the relationships and I would be carrying those with me.  The bonds of friendship had been intensified by the leaving process.  I hoped that my compadres understood the pull of the wanderlust and my bucket list of dreams.  I had almost swallowed that bitter pill of goodbye and I was trying hard to temper my melancholy mood with sweet thoughts of arrival.  

Perhaps that is why it is always so hard to sleep the night before a departure? Yet my family had no trouble snoring, they were unaffected by the moon beams pulling me awake. I should have been staring at the back of my eyelids not the computer screen.  Maybe a little laptop time reading of Ecuador would be the lullaby I needed? I tried to think back as to how we chose Ecuador for a 3 month destination. I couldn't quite identify the exact moment, which means I should probably just blame my husband.  Hopefully he had our life blueprint. But what if there was no master plan? Just a bucket list of destinations and ideas spouting out of a leaky pail and you simply have to keep pouring more dreams in, to keep a vortex of aspirations splashing around in there.  

Miramar Sunrise

"you dont know what you've got until it stops" 

Hard Habit to Break, Chicago. 

It was too late to question if leaving California was the right idea, the flight was in just a few hours. Our last task had been to leave the cars with a trusted friend, all that was left to do was leave. Oh and of course send wishes for a happy King day from a Queen stepping away from the USA.

"Just be yourself, sir. 

Whatever happens, they can't take that away from you." 

Coleman, Trading Places

A blonde walks into a bank in Santa Barbara and asks for the loan officer. She says she's going to Ecuador on a trip for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000. The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for the loan, so the blonde hands over the keys to a new Rolls Royce. The car is parked on the street in front of the bank, she has the title and everything checks out. The bank agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan. The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the blonde for using a $250,000 Rolls as collateral against a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then drives the Rolls into the bank's underground garage and parks it there. Two weeks later, the blonde returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41. The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. We checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?" The blonde replies..... "Where else in Santa Barbara can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Rubia Tonta

"There comes a time when the mind takes a higher plane of knowledge but can never prove how it got there"

 Albert Einstein

I'm not too sure how this blonde is managing to take any plane anywhere but I'm very grateful I am and I have a ticket to Ecuador to prove it.  I guess that makes this a South American Dumb Blonde Adventure and me Dumb Blonde Consuela. 

The name Consuelo means solace, hope and consolation, in the English speaking world it gets misspelled as Consuela.  At least if I start with poor orthography the Spanish speaking world will have forewarning of my verbal assaults on their language.   

Mi excusa?  I learnt German and French at school, the need to speak Spanish only occurred as a more mature student.  My aging cerebral sponge has been soaked more by cervezas than Catalonian culture.  So driving around blasting Rosetta Stone through the minivan speakers at school pickup isn't exactly setting me up for a fluent future.  Although several people have raised an eyebrow as I wish  Senor Garcia a "buen dia" and check if he has a "hotel con una vista".  Unintended innuendo is lost on imaginary friends.

However, in defense of my poor communication skills, I no longer suffer teenage self conscious angst when trying out the few words I do retain. Desperate to impress even a couple of the 400 million native Espanol speakers in the world, I use over exaggerated hand gesticulation to inject enthusiasm into the conversation rather than knowledge.  Unfortunately a huge smile and big double thumbs up didn't really help at a Mexican restaurant when I sent my compliments to the "cocino" (fat pig).

In that moment, I abashedly blushed my way into promising myself I would only return to said Mexican establishment incognito, with perhaps a different hair color and more refined hand action.  

"I have to be seen to be believed" 

Queen Elizabeth II

Hiding behind disguise truly liberates you from the preconceptions of many things including hair color.  Perhaps it really is my flaxen Germanic locks holding me back from that higher plane of understanding?  

I once met a brunette American woman in Buenos Aires, who confessed (after a glass of champagne) she was really blonde.  Staring out at me from under her dark brown fringe she earnestly explained her logic.  The South Americans understood her verbal Spanish far better as a dark haired foreigner.  I fear there is little hope for Consuela?  

Yet our band of blonde explorers plans to set forth regardless.  Voyaging over 3600 miles from Santa Barbara, California to a tiny fishing village on the coast of Ecuador.  Ecua-where?  About the size of the UK, with 15 million people, Ecuador is flanked by Columbia in the North and Peru to the south and east.  We hope to: touch down to the welcoming embrace of old friends and new, surf the warm equatorial point breaks and be marooned in the Pacific for a while - 600 miles offshore on the Galapogos Islands.

I trust our flights will be slightly more comfortable than Mr Darwin's arrival in 1835 on board the 90 foot sailing ship, the H.M.S. Beagle.  This incredibly bio-diverse region inspired his book "On the Origin of Species".   Hopefully, the next few months of the home schooling experience won't inspire "The End of Times".  

"Do not fear going forward slowly; 
fear only standing still." 
Chinese proverb 

Life is short and the destination list long, follow the enlightenment of your own star.   The only problem is that our guiding light is flashing between hemispheres.  We first stop in Ecuador for 3 months, then onto England, before heading back to Australia in June.  It is a testament to my blunderlust that we have managed to contrive a perfectly sane family to pack up life and roam the planet again.   How did I convince 2 intelligent kids to enroll into homeschool once more?  Especially considering "Yours truly" is the Math and Science department, Greggie is English and Social studies tutor, Espanol will have to be by osmosis.  Second time around it was far easier to persuade them into a traveling education.  In confession, the baksheesh motivation was a repositioning cruise across the Atlantic.  Its amazing what a Royal Caribbean boat sailing from Miami to Southampton, UK can achieve.  Did I mention the ice skating rink, water slides and crazy golf?  But enough of ocean going vessels, I get ahead of myself.  I must first dream of flying the friendly skies as a rubia inteligente. 

On a flight down to Ecuador a blonde is seated next a lawyer.  The lawyer asks the blonde if she would like to play a fun game? The blonde, tired, politely declines and closes her eyes to get some rest. The lawyer persists and explains, "I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer you pay me $5.00, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $500.00." She agrees to the game. The lawyer asks the first question. "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?" Silently the blonde reaches into her purse, pulls out a $5.00 bill and hands it to the lawyer. "Okay" says the lawyer, "your turn." She asks the lawyer, "What goes up a hill with three legs and comes down with four legs?" The lawyer, puzzled, takes out his laptop computer and searches all his references, no answer. He taps into the air phone with his modem and searches the net and the library of congress, no answer. Frustrated, he sends e-mails to all his friends and coworkers, to no avail. After an hour, he wakes the blonde, and hands her $500.00. The blonde says, "Thank you," and turns to get some more sleep. The lawyer, who is well miffed, begs the blonde for the answer.  Without a word, the blonde reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer $5.00, and goes back to sleep.