Cuenca or Bust

Our Ecuador Story #7: Still tourists!

Don’t get me wrong, we don’t want to be to tourists forever! I’ve been anticipating (and hoping!) that there will be a deep satisfaction in putting down roots here, building a sense of familiarity, and settling into the rhythms of a life in this new place. Eventually that will happen, complete with the upsides (belonging, security, opportunities to step out and grow) and the downsides (responsibilities, boredom, and the old mental “tapes” that try to keep us down). BUT… RIGHT NOW…

WE ARE STILL IN THE HONEYMOON STAGE WITH CUENCA!

“David” (you know: Doug) gets his kicks from exploring the city on foot. For all of his life, whenever he arrives at a new place the first thing he wants to do is obey the call of his feet to get out of the door and explore. As for “Susana” (you know, me), its aesthetics — I savor the plants, hills, the ambiance of the hotspots, the art. Together we have been visiting lots of places where tourists would go. As times passes here in Cuenca, we will do more of “real life”, but we MUST still reserve time and make traditions for these special adventures.

That said, last night was a blast! Maybe you can relate when I say, there are some places that are cathartic JUST TO BE THERE! The sights, sounds, movement, the sense of humanity, and some certain something, or just everything— I don’t know. I first noticed this phenomenon 22 years ago when “David” & I stumbled upon Rockefeller Plaza in New York City. There was a heightened excitement in me, and I felt the air full of anticipation. As if something really important was about to happen. So we stayed to watch the program. But nothing happened. Wind whipped is some flags, people skated, others sat around tables eating expensive food, some drummed on oil drums nearby, and Santa’s helpers rang their bells to collect donations. That’s all that happened. But there was a feeling to me that felt like a lot happened, and I went away from it feeling as if I’d reached the top, as if I’d experienced one of the 7 Wonders of World. I’ve felt it on a few other occasions.

Last night was one of those occasions. It was Cuenca’s Christmas “tree” lighting at Parque Mira Flores. There was a program: lots and lots of speeches over the loudspeaker, but we understood none of that (except that occasionally the word “Cuenca” could clearly be understood). But to us, the program was the park itself and everything in it. It would have been well worth going just to see the big conical metal “tree”, the many many Christmas-themed installations throughout the park, and the fun of the families and kids playing.

But then, as night gradually approached, little by little, the Christmas installations lit up with colorful “Christmas” lights (as we would call those pretty little bulbs in the U.S.). And the park gradually became more dense with humanity as the time for the lighting approached. Young couples, groups of friends, kids playing and walking hand-in-hand or riding piggy-back with the adults in their lives. And along with all the other people we were exploring the art, gazing, taking pictures, and buying snacks and toys that blink with color (yes, I did, I got one! I got a wreath for my head that had flowers, tinsel and blinky lights).

Then we sat on a hillside that served the purpose of bleachers last night. “David” felt the growing chill of the night air, while I (usually relying more on the imaginary tricks that emotions can play) sensed a growing warmth as more and more people arrived, filling in the spaces around us. After a good while “David” joked that maybe we should start a chant “Light That Tree!” and I laughed. But neither of us felt in a hurry for it — it was good just be there. Eventually, the tree got lit from bottom to top, then the star got lit, and the sky above us got lit up too— with fireworks. And when I say above us, I mean DIRECTLY above us. I laid on my back marveling at this whole serendipitous experience, my mind blown away, but also with enough presence of mind to be thinking, “I wonder if any moment some super hot ash or ember will land in my eye.

Nothing dangerous landed in my eye, but “David” said he got a little something— not hot or even warm, but sulfury— that landed on his hand. Eventually we got up to go, brushing the grass off of our pants, when “David” ’s wedding ring slipped off his finger and was lost in the dark. We had our own little Easter egg hunt then, using just the light from the tree, my wreath, and flashlights, and after about 20 minutes he found it down the hill next to someone’s thigh. Whew! A little too much detail now as I re-live the night, so I’ll sign off here, and just say: I think this tree-lighting thing will be the first established new holiday tradition in this new life. Does my post remind you of some similar experience? Or a tradition? Do tell!

Our Ecuador Story #6

“All great beginnings start in the dark, when the moon greets you to a new day at midnight.”
― Shannon L. Alder

I am not sure what I expected. It wasn’t this. But this if fine. I like it.

In the movies, when a big event is expected the action crescendos, rolling us forward in a rising tide until the big event pops out and showers its actuality all over you. Like the big showdown between Harry Potter and Voldemort. Or the giving of gifts by the Wizard of Oz that makes us feel all gooey and good when it's revealed that everyone had what they needed after all.

Doug and I had been preparing for and LIVING for OUR “big event” these past 3 years, 7 months, and 11 days, and we certainly experienced the crescendo. But then, a couple days before the move, I got sick. My emotions went flat and I just was going through the motions, carried along with the support of Doug, and Octavia — our friend and “taxi mom” that got us to the airport, with much love and a care package included.

I only vaguely noted that this was really the big event and soon we’d be be in our long-awaited new hometown. I only vaguely noticed the art in all the airports and recognized that if I were not sick I’d be exploring and photographing all of it. When we arrived at our temporary lodgings (2 month stay) I only vaguely noted the Spanish charm and lovely views, recognizing that I would appreciate this later.

For the whole trip I only wanted to gape in a stupor, or sleep, in turns. The only moment that bore any resemblance to a "ta da!" moment was that moment when I could finally lie down for a long uninterrupted sleep.

That’s life. What we expect isn’t always how it is. I’m glad. This sense of calm is feeling good right now. Little by little this new life will reveal itself.