Sometimes I regret telling my family, “comeré todo que tu haces.”  Basically, I did it because I figured it would be easier than searching through my Spanish-English dictionary and listing off all the food that I would not touch in the Estados Unidos, but recently I realized it may have been worth the trouble.  This realization came after forcing down cauliflower quiche, sautéed mushroom dishes, yuca soup, an overflowing plateful of lima bean-esqe lentils, and countless other meals I was afraid to ask what they were.  Yet, the staff at ACLAS, the school I’m currently at, tells us that it is extremely rude in this country to not finish what is on your plate, so with a smile on I persevere.  But, don’t let this paragraph fool you; I was being a bit dramatic.  Most of the time I do enjoy the food I have here, especially the homemade ice cream and pizza….pizza, pizza, pizzzzza!

            The soccer game was not nearly as dangerous as it was made out to be, at least not in the sense of the rowdiness of the crowds.  The beer on the other hand, is a different story – we should have realized it would make us sick when the pitchers were spray painted Tupperware containers you would use to serve lemonade at your house.  Nevertheless, we were able to see three fantastic goals by Liga, including a header from a corner kick, which made the crowds go absolutely crazy.

            Much of the last week was pretty relaxed.  I went for a run for the first time since I’ve been here because they say to wait at least a week to get used to the altitude in Quito, which is at 9895 ft.  I probably lasted about 10 minutes and even that made me feel like I couldn’t walk the next day.   Wednesday, I went to a casino, which almost didn’t let us in because they claimed they smelled alcohol on one guy’s breath, even though he only had one beer.  Yet, living with the elite of Quito has its advantages – one friend called up his sister who made a couple of calls and all of sudden they were ushering us in.  Confused about why they wouldn’t want drunk people in their casino in the first place, the sister explained to us that they considered themselves a classy hotel and didn’t want the ruckus.  Yea, okay, a “classy” casino with $2 minimums.   The best I was during the night was 14 dollars up, but ended up 20 bucks down— I really have to work on my card counting skills. 

            Saturday I resumed my adventurous activities by climbing a dormant volcano, Mt. Pichincha.  We begun by taking the Teleferico, which is like a ski lift, from the base of the mountain up 3000 feet, and then continued climbing from there.  At first it didn’t seem too difficult, but before I knew it I wouldn’t be able to walk 5 minutes without stopping – I like to think it was the lack of oxygen from the altitude than me not really being in shape.  Most of the way there was walking paths that you could follow, but as we continued higher and higher, the terrain became harder and the paths started to disappear.   At one point, there was a steep section of just sand that you had climb up to reach the last leg of jagged rocks that would bring you to the top.   At this point, I was out of water and out of food, and seriously thinking I was going to pass out  - I felt like I was in one of the movie scenes where the person is in the desert clawing there way through the sand, hallucinating about an oasis of water.   But then I saw Alfredo, this random old, bald man who appeared out of nowhere to help my friends and I navigate through the mountain, calling to me and I knew I couldn’t give up. As soon as I got to the rocks, I got my second wind, and climbed through the rocks, which given a wrong step could send you tumbling to your death down the steep cliffs on either side.   Reaching the most amazing feeling ever.  I would have to say the whole four hour climb was not really an enjoyable one, but in the end was worth the feeling of accomplishment.  At the summit, there was an amazing view of the huge city of Quito, which turns out to wrap around the mountains.  An even cooler feeling was standing literally in the clouds.  Of the ten people who came, only 4 made it to the top. 

….And almost only 3 of us made it down.  During the descent, I got a bad footing and started falling down the cliff on the side of the mountain.  At first I thought I could catch myself, but learned very quickly that instead I was simply gaining speed.   With huge jagged rocks and boulders everywhere, I had no clue what to do, and really thought that I was going to tumble at full speed head first into a boulder, or at least break my bones bouncing of these rocks.  Luckily, I when I went down I miraculously avoided slamming into any of the huge rocks, and just skidded along tumbling on my butt.  As it turns out I survived, with no broken bones, but only gashes and cuts covering my bottom! 

            But now Sunday, a very lazy day, I must get back to reading The Beak of the Finch, to prepare myself for an epic cruise through the Galapagos Islands which begins Thursday!