Matthew Explores the Amazon and Beyond

After one crazy week and another that flew by right after it, I finally have some time to write a little about my experiences. Just off the top of my head I hiked to a secluded waterfall, almost died rafting down a river, spent hours boating down another river, went on an amazing night hike, climbed a tower in the middle of the jungle, slept on the floor of a hostel room that belonged to a random German friend I made, and got stuck on a Catholic propaganda bus. I am writing with about a week of hindsight so hopefully I don’t gloss over too much or leave out too much important information.

The day before we left for the Oriente (literally: the east, what Ecuadorians call their portion of the Amazon Rainforest) was one of our typically crazy days in Ecuador. Of course we had a Spanish exam the day we left, and the day before we were in Quito trying to get some of our documents processed that we couldn’t get done in the first week because the office had run out of the appropriate papers. My experience in that office was definitely the worst I have ever had with a government bureaucracy. Our coordinator had called beforehand to reserve a time for our group, had even sent a letter in advance cordially requesting a time (upon their suggestion), and still it took hours to get through! The worst part was that even though we had gone through the supposed proper channels we still got no help from the people working there. The attendant even yelled at me for “not showing respect” simply because I defended my spot in the line. Apparently the person who cut in front of me had spoken to his boss, so they had priority. All I could do was hold my tongue.

Despite the chaos of bureaucracy and an exam we still managed to pull away Friday at 11:00. Our bus from Sangolqui to Tena took us first up the mountains of the Sierra into the paramo (where we had previously spent a night camping, see “Night on Bald Mountain”) and then down into the jungle. We could easily feel the altitude we had traveled; in the first hour it became very cold and then gradually warmed up as we went down the mountain. Traveling down we were given an excellent view of the valley as our bus often went around sharp corners mere inches from the edge. Leaning over and looking down we could see where our bus might have ended up if the driver had been less careful.

We arrived in Tena with a feeling that we were in a completely different world: the heat was hot, the air was dry, and the air was full of sound. Previously Tena had been considered the actual “frontier” of the jungle, now it was the first stop on your way in. In the horribly out of date 1986/87 map my parents gave me it is one of the cities furthest into the jungle. With the expansion of oil exploration into the Oriente, however, there was now much more, much deeper into the jungle.

That night most of our group went out to a slightly fancy restaurant that was opened up along the main river of Tena. They actually had a vegetarian part of the menu and thus I was treated to some excellent noodles in a curry sauce. As part of my anthropological research I had been doing I asked the waiter what in his opinion the difference between Canadians and Americans was. He answered, rather evasively, that Americans had a little more trouble picking up Spanish, and finished by saying politely, “is that what you were looking for?” Knowing the position he was in, I couldn’t ask much more from him.
The next morning Jennifer and I both woke up and went for a swim the river next to our hotel. The water was amazingly refreshing although with the force of the river we had to continually battle so as to not be immediately carried downstream. For this swimming adventure I was sporting my brand spanking new, white, black, and blue SPEEDO. Our coordinator had warned us before that in many Amazonian rivers there is fish that is known to swim up a man’s urethra, and then can only be removed through surgery. Obviously I preferred the speedo to the fish.

Ecotourism in Allukus

After breakfast we were picked up by three trucks and taken to the indigenous community of Allukus. This community had set themselves up as offering “ecotourism” whereby people would get to come and stay in their village and experience an “authentic” indigenous village. This provided a source of income for the community and was offered as an alternative to staying in one of the big hotels in town. The accommodations here were modest but good nonetheless. In order to distribute the beds they gathered us all together then told all the “gorditos”(fatties) to go to one of the lodges that apparently had the sturdiest beds. The rest of us could sleep in the remaining two cabins.

After getting settled in and setting up our mosquito nets those who wanted to were taken on a hike of the area around the village. When I say “village” I actually mean an open clearing around which there was a small road and then thick, thick, jungle. On this hike we walked along the road and then had to cross one at a time across a narrow log bridge with a rope on one side. Once across we were then in thick jungle which we then proceeded to climb up the side of a steep hill. Midway up we stopped to take turns swinging on this hanging jungle vine Tarzan style. After about two hours of hiking in which I took numerous pictures of different flowers and plants we arrived at “paradise.” In the middle of the jungle there was a waterfall that had created a pool we could swim in, totally isolated from everything else. For those who wanted to you could even climb up the rocks next to the waterfall and then after jumping into it get spun around and shot out into the pool. We stayed there for hours just taking in the beauty and power of the water but eventually had to resign ourselves to going back to the village. What did we do once we got back? Go swimming of course! Back near the rope bridge there was another river and pool you could swim in that led down to the main river near Allukus. Being more open we could soak in some of the sun and relax until dinner.

Dinner that night was good, but we could definitely feel the impact of tourist’s expectations on what we were served. Our coordinator told us that in order to prepare all the food the village had gone into town beforehand and bought all the food so they could make something that we would like. We were served a sort of pasta, that was quite good all things considering. What amazed me most was how they were able to make food for 30 people with only this tiny kitchen that was attached next to the dinning hut. To add to the atmosphere our tablecloths were actually huge leaves from a nearby palm tree. During dinner our table was graced by the presence of these cool insects that emitted a bright glow as they crawled around us.

After dinner we all gathered in a circle and participated in a night of cultural sharing. The community of Allukus would present one of their songs, after which we would try to respond as best we could with a song we knew. Some of our songs were “Wayra Shamway”(a Kichwa song our teacher had taught us), I’ll Fly Away, and a slightly shortened version of Barrett’s Privateers. We also read a letter in Kichwa that we had prepared before and also joined the community in dancing to some of their songs. The songs they presented included huge drums, a violin, and two slightly out of tune guitars. At one point we tried to add the banjo in, but without much success.

The one point where I felt slightly awkward was when they performed what I thought was a “shamanistic” ritual. The ritual consisted of one woman going around the entire group and waving a sort of “duster” made of leaves above our heads. Occasionally she would make some sort of noise as if she was trying to get something to go away. I understand it as her expelling the spirits that must have been in us or floating around us. What made it awkward was that some members of our group tried to take pictures at this time complete with flash. This ruined a bit of the atmosphere of the performance by distracting from what was actually going on. Having experienced something similar in Brazil (through Candomble) I also felt as if there was something missing from this ritual. Was it performed just for us? What was actual significance of what was going on? What did this ritual mean to the community? With these questions hanging in the air it was hard to appreciate the significance of what had just happened.

Rafting to Tena

The next morning we were allowed to take it easy and do as we pleased. Some hung around the village while others went down to the river and swam again. Around midday we split as some people went back to Tena by truck and others went white water rafting from the village back into Tena. Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity I of course chose the rafting route. In total there were twelve of us who went, eight in one raft, and four in the other, that one being the one where I was, and the one with the most experience. I had only been once before, so I guess I qualified as “experienced.” We soon found out why they put us in that raft. On the third rapids we let the bigger boat go first and with only a few big bumps saw them pass through. We weren’t so lucky. Having only five people in our boat (us plus the guide) we got halfway through the rapids and then were completely flipped over sending all of us flying. All our paddles went flying, and I completely lost sight of everyone in our raft. My sandal which I had had tucked under a rope in the raft was completely ripped off my foot but luckily I was able to grab it before it floated away from me. Remembering the instructions of the guide I crossed my hands in front of me and stuck my feet out in front of me. Luckily the other boat stopped and was able to pick most of us up before we floated too far downstream. Once in the boat I was by the others that their guide had said, “we’ll be fine, but they’ll be flipped like a piece of paper!”

After that scare I thought that the rest of the river would be even worse but fortunately we were able to keep ourselves together for most of the rest of the trip. At one point the other raft was flipped, giving us the chance to play rescue team. The scenery going down the river was immaculate, we had a mix of thick jungle, high exposed rock faces with strange flowers growing out of them, and some places were erosion had created small sandy beaches. Every once in awhile we’d see a narrow cave that would extend quite a distance into the rock; probably punched in by the force of the water. At one point we stopped to play some games on one of the sand bars, at other times they let us get out of the boat and float down the river ourselves. As we’d paddle along people on the banks of the rivers would often yell “hi” to us and wave as we waved back to them. At one point we saw a lone kid on the side of the river stare at us without saying a word. I imagined his thoughts to be thus, “Damn! I walk all this way to go pee, and EVERYTIME, there’s a damn boatful of white people right here!”

Having so much fun eventually lulled us into a false sense of security, which almost proved to be our detriment. Approaching one of the last rapids we failed to see a rock covered by water and actually had half our raft go over top of it. We thought we were fine but as we came off the rock one of our friends was thrown into the water! As we were pulled forward we looked around frantically for her bobbing head but she was nowhere to be found. Panic set in as we realized she could actually be trapped underneath the raft. Moving forward quickly we were relieved to find her above the water. Then began the task of actually getting her back in the boat. Paddling hard we tried to hold ourselves steady but the water prevailed and pulled us down the river just out of her reach. Finally after exiting the rapids we were able to pull her into the boat. With a renewed sense of seriousness we continued down the river unscathed.

Travel Down the Napo

Once back in Tena we set out for the second leg of our adventure, this time down the Napo River. Our eventual destination was Coca, an oil town that had sprung up in the middle of nowhere further down the river. To get there we had to go seven hours by boat down the river in a long, covered, motor powered canoe. Halfway there we stopped at the community of Santa Rosa for the night. The highlight of this stop was the amazing night hike that we went. Rubber boots, flashlights, and bug spray were all mandatory on this walk, although Jennifer didn’t have a flashlight so she stuck close to me the whole time. Walking in a line we would passage the message of the guide upfront through the 15 of us in a bizarre game of telephone. Often by the time the message had gotten to the back, the spider/insect/snake/frog/animal had moved on or something new had popped up on the trail. One girl up ahead screamed so much that we could judge how interesting something was going to be based on her screams.

It would be impossible to describe everything we saw on that hour and a half hike, suffice it say that very rarely did we even see the same species twice. The highlight of the hike was seeing a 400-year-old tree that was impressive beyond belief in its massiveness. It was also cool to see one of the ecology theories I had learned expressed in reality. After learning that the area we were walking through was under water half the year, it was easy to see why there was so much diversity. (This confirms the intermediate disturbance hypothesis, which proposes that the highest species diversity is found in areas with medium levels of ecological disturbance).
The next morning we got early in order to go to our final destination, Coca. It was another three or four hours by boat, but luckily it was smooth enough that we could still get a little rest. Just like when we arrived in Tena, Coca again felt like it was a completely different world. This time however, the small town homeliness of Tena was replaced with the boomtown dirtiness of Coca. The water that surrounded our boat as we approached Coca was disgusting; my greatest fear was that I, or one of my bags, would fall into it. Fortunately in the last three years Coca seems to have picked up somewhat. There are now at least two main streets, and many of the side streets are paved as well. There are traffic lights, but they are completely ignored by drivers and pedestrians a like. After grasping our sense of direction we walked down the main street to our hotel, which was only a few minutes away. This hotel definitely tried to play the exoticism factor to the extreme. Half the rooms were designed as is you were living in one of the huts we had stayed in at Alukus. A statue of two naked indigenous people was found just inside the main courtyard. In one room a poster on the wall depicted a line of indigenous men with their foreskins tucked into their loincloths. All the rooms were positioned around the inside of an open courtyard complete with a little jungle, monkeys, and three parrots and a toucan (all with their wings clipped). These birds hopped around the hotel hoping to get whatever food they could from the hotel guests. The toucan even hoped its way up to Jennifer’s room on the second floor at one point, and refused to leave until the next morning.

Our planned activity for the next day was to go on a “toxic tour” of some of the oil extraction facilities around Coca. We had previously heard a talk about these facilities in one of our classes done by a Belgian environmental activist that had been working in Ecuador for the last 15 years. The story we had heard was one of severe pollution, lack of regulation, exploitation of workers, and complete disrespect for the indigenous people and their land. Unfortunately our chance to see the effects of exploration was not to be. Our guide from a national environmental organization was not able to come from where he was near the Colombian border because the military was not allowing anyone to leave the area. As well the Canadian embassy had strongly recommended that we not go anywhere near areas of oil exploration because of the extremely dangerous political situation and violence in the area. With those plans dashed, and not much more to do around Coca we had no choice but to return to Tena.

Back in Tena and on to Cuenca

The next afternoon we caught a bus at 3:00 to take us back to Tena. The ride back took us six hours that actually went a lot faster than I expected. During the ride we heard a horrifying story about an accident that had taken place on the road we were traveling. Apparently there had been oil spills along that route that as a result had made the road very slippery. Buses that had passed by afterwards had then slipped off the road because of the slipperiness caused by the oil. Fortunately, nothing like that happened to us.

Once we arrived in Tena it was time to find ourselves a hostel. Without much searching we found one along the main street for $5 a night. It had small rooms, comfortable beds, and each room had a bathroom with a toilet. Unfortunately there were no toilet seats.
The next morning we woke up and had breakfast at a nice little café along the river. Our groups split in two, some went back to Allukus to swim in the paradise pond, the remaining four of us (Jenn and I and two friends) went back to the hostel to consider our options. At this point I was running very low on money so I wasn’t sure what exactly I could get myself into. After a bit of talking and flipping through some guide books we decided to head off to the nature reserve of Jatun Sacha (Kichwa for “big forest”). Cruising by some of the shops on the main street we picked up a whole bunch of fruit and vegetables and some “Wawas de pan” (lit: Bread Babies). These are pastries, made out of bread and shaped kind of like gingerbread men, are eaten on the Day of Dead, which in Ecuador is celebrated on November 1st and 2nd. During this day there are ceremonies at the church and many people spend all day in the graveyard, cleaning tombstones, eating food, and honoring the dead. From the town centre we hoped on a bus to Jatun Sacha and after a 45 minute drive were dropped off literally in the middle of nowhere. As we walked up to the office we were greeted by a friendly Ecuadorian man who welcomed us to the park. Jatun Sacha was started when two scientists were granted a section of primary forest in the 1980s to use for ecological research. They have since preserved the forest and now run it is a nature park using volunteer labour. Those who want to work there can come at anytime and pay $250 a month for room and board (not a bad deal at all). There were quite a few volunteers there as we passed through and it looked like they were having a good time.

Our trek through Jatun Sacha was done on the self-guided tour, although we forget to bring the guidebook with us so at each point we would stop and try to guess what it was that we were supposed to be seeing. Our biggest challenge on the hike was ducking underneath all the spider webs that were conveniently strewn across our path. Either the spiders are very quick or it had been a long time since anyone had been down that path. Like our night hike it would be impossible for me to explain everything that we saw. The most impressive sight was a huge moth that was about the size of my hand (Hopefully I will have those pictures developed soon). Midway through the trail we stopped at a 30 meter high tower that had been constructed in the middle of the jungle. We had picked up harnesses from the main entrance and so one at a time we were able to climb to the top. Jennifer surprised me by being the first person to put on her harness and start climbing. Not wanting to be left behind I soon followed her up. The first part of the climb was easy, but things became scarier as I cleared the canopy of the trees. From there the wind picked up a little and the tower began to shake just a little bit more. The view, however, was breathtaking. What surprised me the most was the different shades of green you could see from up top, something you would never have seen from the ground. At the top of the tower there was a platform you could climb through and sit on, just big enough for two, maybe three people. I sat up there with Jennifer for several minutes, until we realized we should probably let our two friends get a chance to see the view for themselves.

On the way back we again had to battle the spiders along the way, which continually kept us ducking and dodging their webs. At one point Jennifer, who as our intrepid leader walked in front, got caught in an anthill, and trapped by some spider webs, could not advance. Provided with that warning those behind her were able to pass through safely but once we got back to the hostel we realized the full extent of what had happened. Either through the ant bites, the spiders, or perhaps some plant she touched Jennifer had begun to have an allergic reaction all over her entire body. She was literally covered with what appeared like bites everywhere on her body. After trying to cool off in the shower a bit I then doused Jennifer in ‘after bite’. Some of us then left to get supper but Jennifer stayed in the hostel to recover. The way she looked, I wouldn’t blame her. I brought her back some pizza from the restaurant, which I’m sure she thoroughly enjoyed. Fortunately after a few hours the irritation subsided and she was able to sleep.

The next morning Jennifer left early on the bus back to Quito while I stayed with my two friends to visit a placement near Tena. Together we visited the community Shandia, which was about 45 minutes outside of Tena. There is a lot I could say about the community but given that I will most likely be doing my placement there I will give only a brief description of it now. The community is very small, perhaps only 40 families live there and it is on a plateau near the river Napo. They mainly produce cocoa, corn, yucca, bananas, as well as many artisan products. Right now they interested in starting fishponds as well as doing some composting projects. The main source of income for the community is the cocoa that they sell to an organic fair trade co-op, known as Kallari, and out of which there is made an excellent gourmet chocolate (I’ve tried some and it’s exquisite). Our impression of the community was very good, what impressed me the most was their spirit of entrepreneurship combined with their willingness to accept volunteers into their community.

Once back in Tena we again split up to continue on our adventures. I continued on to Cuenca with one friend while our other friend decided to go back to Sangolqui. Our plan was to meet our coordinator in Cuenca on Monday so we thought we could at least spend the weekend in Cuenca and get to know the city. Unfortunately for the others the fact that we had to stay in Tena until Friday meant that for them to travel 12 hours from Tena to Cuenca would have been pointless given that they would have to come back on Sunday for classes on Monday. Nonetheless we intrepidly pushed on to Cuenca.

A common feature on any Ecuadorian bus is the endless stream of movies that they play. From Tena to Riobamba we were treated to some of the best movies the world has to offer. To start off with we were forced to watch Air Force 1. All in all it isn’t a bad movie, and the fact that it was in Spanish pleased me a little bit. What movie came next? Why Air Force 2 of course! This is perhaps the worst movie ever made as it was obviously a cash in on the success of it predecessor. This time the Vice-President was in trouble on an island somewhere in the Pacific, apparently he’d been visiting leaders to spread the President’s global warming plan (yeah right!). Basically the whole movie was them running around this island shooting people, combined with horrible acting, plastic characters, and seizure inducing dialogue. The best was the “there’s a gun behind you” which had me cry out for my favourite super hero, Obvious Man! Like at Franklin Graham’s speech, I was the only one in the bus laughing! I almost died when the next film to come up was Men of War staring none other then Dolph Lundgren but fortunately they turned it off. More on him later…
As we got off the bus in Riobamba we met a German guy, and this French lady he had just met on the bus. Seeing as we were both going to Cuenca we decided to hang out with them for a bit. The German guy was working at a hostel in Quito and was going to visit his friend in Cuenca. The French lady was doing volunteer work teaching French through the Order of Malta (I assume a Catholic organization and which would explain why she was going to Cuenca). After a wait of an hour or so we boarded our bus. As I boarded the bus a lady saw me and my long beard and yelled, “Osama bin Laden.” I turned quickly back to her and quipped, “no ya!”(not yet!).

Arrival in Cuenca

Our arrival in Cuenca was about as unceremonial as it could have possibly been. We got into town at 4:00 a.m. completely disoriented and not quite sure where we could go. As we walked into the bus station we noticed a sign warning us not to bring our goats into the bus terminal. Fortunately, we had none with us. Our French friend wanted to leave quite quickly so we decided to stick around with our German friend. Eventually he got in contact with his friend in the hostel, so we decided to catch a cab with him downtown and see if we could get in with his friend. After a quick search we were able to find the place. I rang the intercom and was told there was no room left so our German friend called his friend to come let us in. In a few minutes she came down and but brought a few people along with her. Apparently a fight had broken out in the hostel and had now progressed its way to the door. After that cleared we were able to bargain with the hostel owner to let us sleep on the floor of their room. So at 5:00 in the morning we curled up to our backpacks and tried to get some sleep. About an hour later, I was still trying to fall sleep when I heard, “What the hell!” One of the guys sleeping in the bed had decided to get up and almost stepped on my Canadian friend. Then he saw me and was even more surprised to see two randoms sleeping on the floor of his hostel room. Once he realized what was going on though he was the nicest person in the world. He moved over to another bed so that the two of us could crawl into the bed he had left and try to get some sleep. Unfortunately there was still another person in the bed but compared to the floor it was heaven.

A few hours later we woke up and decided that if we didn’t want to pay, now would be a good time to sneak out of the hostel. Unfortunately we were caught by the hostel staff who informed us we would have to pay $2.50 each for the 4.5 hours we had slept on the floor (regular $4.50 a night). She and I weren’t in much of a position to argue so we said goodbye to our German/Ecuadorian friends, paid the bill, and left! Taking a few minutes to orient ourselves, we decided to go right then and there to buy some breakfast and find a new hostel. A few blocks away we found one and so decided to ask for a room. The women at the front desk replied very sweetly that of course they had rooms, and “would we like the honeymoon suite?” Slightly embarrassed we had to tell her, “somos solo amigos” (we’re just friends). Besides the rooms were really expensive so we moved on.
The next place we found was quite cheaper and we were ready to stay there but again the same problem, all they had was the honeymoon suite! The rooms were so cheap, however, that we decided we would wait a few hours until one opened, which eventually it did. Settling into our room felt great since I was finally able to relax after a crazy journey halfway across Ecuador.

After collecting ourselves we decided to go hang out in the park for the afternoon. There was a festival on called “Mi Cuenca Canta” featuring artists from all across Latin America. While they played street performers danced around on the sidewalks, kids played on the swings, and artists displayed their paintings for everyone to see. Midway through the afternoon it started to rain so we took refuge under a tree. It was there that we met a new friend, who I will affectionately call, “Crazy Fabian.” Fabian was a self declared insomniac, who also said he was an artist. When I asked him what he thought about Canada he said, “Oh you guys are pure white, not like those Americans who have mixed with the red skins.” Then he laughed which made me think maybe he was just trying to push my buttons. Later on I asked him if he knew that the Bible was an extraterrestrial transmission, which of course he said he knew about. When I started to laugh he asked me in a completely straight face, “why are you laughing?” At that point we were at the artist exhibitions, apparently since he wanted us to buy one of his paintings. For some reason none of his were there, so feeling that he was a bit creepy we said it was time for us to go back to the hostel.

A few blocks from the hostel we heard some strange sounds that sounded like they were coming from an outdoor movie from down the street. Curious to know their origin we walked towards them, the sounds getting stranger as we got closer. Rounding the corner what did we find?? A rock concert in the middle of Cuenca! Apparently Cuenca is the rock and roll capital of Ecuador so this happens all the time. What else did we see? Our Ecuadorian friends from the hostel! It was at the point that we realized how small Cuenca actually is. The band playing was called Sal y Miento, what I would call a mix between Iron Maiden and Jethro Tull. They definitely had a metal edge, but weren’t afraid to mix in alto and tenor saxophone along with flute at times. My Canadian friend left halfway through, but I was having so much fun I stayed for the whole thing. At the end, who did I run into? You guessed Fabian! Cuenca is definitely one of those big, small towns.

What else did we do while we were in Cuenca? First we visited the main Catholic cathedral, which was originally designed to be the biggest in South America and hold 10,000 people. Unfortunately there were some flaws in the design so construction was halted halfway through. The interior, however, was ornate to an extreme, the sanctuary at the front seemed as if it was completely plated with gold. At the entrance there was also a statue of Pope John Paul II, about 10 times his actual size. Inside that cathedral I can say that I actually saw God, literally. At one side they had a statue of God, complete with Jesus sitting on his right hand.

Another highlight was a little hostel/restaurant we visited called El Cafecito. This place had great drinks at happy hour as well as some excellent curried pakoras! In Ecuador! If for nothing else I must go back to Cuenca just for that.

Monday it was time to do what we actually came to Cuenca for, see some of the projects we could be working in. Our coordinator took us to an organization that was involved with a cooperative of organic farmers. These farmers had banded together previously to in order to present an alternative to the deforestation that was happening there because the forest was being used to make charcoal. They had now started replanting efforts but the forest was still in the first and second stages of succession. In order to get to the community we had to take a bus for 45 minutes to a town just outside of Cuenca known as Gualaceo. Unfortunately we didn’t even know where we were going or who we were supposed to meet. Halfway there we got a call from Maria’s contact back in Cuenca telling us that she had finally got in contact with the right person and told us where to meet them. Not a moment too soon. When we arrived the people we were supposed to meet were in the middle of a meeting so we sat awkwardly in the corner while they finished up. I have to say that that moment was the oddest I had felt in Ecuador yet. Most of the people there were Indigenous women, which made me feel a little out of place. After Maria got up and spoke in front of everyone about our project, then it was our turn! I’m not sure exactly what I said but people seemed to be nodding their heads at the end. All in all I think we made a good impression.

Traveling back to Quito we had the misfortune of being trapped on what I now call the “Catholic Propaganda Bus.” My first clue should have been the name of the bus line, “Santa”(Saint). Another clue was the poster at the front of Nuestra Dama de el Cisne (Our Lady of the Swan). If that wasn’t enough we were then treated to an “enlightening” movie about abortion, while being trapped on that bus! In most cases I would have been open to seeing a movie like this, if only I hadn’t been trapped on the bus and if the movie had been anything more than pure Catholic propaganda.

At the end of the movie they flashed up a table comparing North American deaths in major 19th and 20th century wars versus the number of abortions since it was legalized. I found this comparison flawed for two reasons. First of all the United States only entered WWI and WWII more than halfway through and suffered many less casualties then say Russia or Germany. Secondly was the reported number of abortions, 20,000,000. I don’t know where they got this number, but according to what I have read must recently the number is 1.6 million in the US since Roe vs. Wade. Perhaps the other 18.4 million took place in Canada and Mexico but I find that highly unlikely. If they were going to present statistics, they should have at least presented ones that are correct.

We arrived in Quito at 3:00 in the morning. Not wanting to miss class the next day we took a cab back to Sangolqui. I was so tired I fell asleep as soon as I got home. The next morning I almost gave my parents a heart attack when they walked downstairs only to find me sleeping on the couch! Then they opened my door only to find my friend sleeping on my bed! After I explained things, it was all good.