June 27, 2009
June 26, 2009
June 25, 2009
Last night, Jordan charged me $6 for one such bottle. Mas barato en San Cristobal, I grumbled. Yeah, well you aren't in San Cristobal anymore, he shot back, in Spanish, of course.
I bought the bottle and then, out of the blue, ran into three friends from the old island, who are here in Isabela with tourist work. There were four limes at home in the fridge, so only two things to do: make caipiriñas and find somewhere to drink them.
We drank them at the flamingo pond behind my house. Four full-grown specimens wandered toward us in the dark, and I was very happy.
June 23, 2009
"Live in the present."
June 20, 2009
June 16, 2009
June 15, 2009
After 5 months on San Cristobal, I raised my hand to move to Isabela, a less developed island, because the university decided to offer English classes to its meager population. My first week was sweaty and stressful, but major hurdles have been jumped, such as:
June 13, 2009
Do you have any idea how hard that is? First you have to wait around for a vehicle. This could take hours depending on time of day, and I live on the main street. Then you have to get enough traction on the sand--no paved roads here--to actually get in front of someone as they try to corner. What, what!
June 10, 2009
Sorry the big gap in writing. I went to the sierras of Ecuador with my mom, and my new home on Isabela lacks internet, and drinkable water, for that matter. I'm going to backlog some vacation stuff, starting with Hugo Chavez. Scroll back to see his fat head.