My first weekend back in Ecuador after visiting family and friends in the U.S. was full of unexpected adventures. I had arrived the previous Sunday night, and was eating dinner alone in Quito when a friendly group of three invited me to join them. They turned out to be Eliseo, a competitive swimmer and coach, his brother Bolivar and Bolivar’s girlfriend Karen, who was headed back to Porto Viejo by bus that night. We had a great time hanging out that night, and they invited me to go to their coastal hometown of Porto Viejo to attend the community festival their mom had organized. Promises of delicious food, surfing, and a milking contest tempted me to the coast the following weekend.
The ride from Quito to Porto Viejo was dark, rainy and long. We got in at one in the morning and fell asleep instantly. The next morning we were up at 7am and headed into Manta for a breakfast of fish and plantains, then stumbled across a fun swim meet that I ended up swimming the 100m backstroke in (I disqualified for taking the last few strokes face-down, but it wasn't like I was going to win anyway). Then we drove an hour south to Santa Rosa, a tiny fishing village with reportedly the best surf around. The waves were only a few feet tall, but enough to have a great time and teach the boys a thing or two.
On Saturday we headed to Olmedo, an inland town where Eliseo's mother was born. We stayed in his grandmother's house, an airy wooden building overlooking the river and town. I was asked to be the judge of the milking contest, which started at 7am--too early after a late night with the cousins.
First the contestants would tie the calf to the hind leg of the cow so that she wouldn't move around during the milking process.
Eliseo's mom tries her hand at milking.
Then I did.
Of course I had to sample the final product...delicious. The cow's owner was concerned that I'd soon be running for the bathroom but I managed to keep it together.
Fortunately after 3 minutes of milking there was still plenty of milk for the calf.
After I had completed my duties as judge we went horseback riding. The saddle was wooden so a trip around the block was long enough for me.
We even forged a mighty river .
When we arrived back at the plaza, I was asked to judge the rice-cleaning contest. Ok, why not? Each village had its contestants beat the rice in a big wooden mortar and pestle until the husk was removed.
We judged the rice based on whiteness, grain size, and cleanliness.
One community brought their newly purified water for everyone to taste.
Then I watched my first cockfight--no deaths.
I even drove the Olmedo bus!It turned out to be a very memorable weekend and a great start to my relationship with Eliseo. More on that to come...
