Sunday, November 29, 2015

Blog #8: Mountaineering Expedition

2015 Ecuador Semester students and guides on the summit of Cayambe

For the past 16 days the 2015 Ecuador Semester has traveled on foot (with some vehicle assistance) from Palugo farm to Antisana and then on to Cayambe. They have spent days in glacier school learning the ropes of mountaineering. They were given the opportunity to split into two groups for three long days of independent student travel, and many chose to attempt the summit of Cayambe. Many succeeded at summitting, all came back changed.      


      What is dream? The dreamer said as he wove his hands into earth,
      And as he spoke the dreamer woke and he stumbled down the mountain of birth;
      For landscape captures mind like twine
      And humble scribe returns with rhyme:

Palugo land of relaxation, farewell my fellow comfort
And salutations to terrain of pain, suffering limbs of limber
The sun is greeting us, day one and Palugo disappears with strides
Finding highlands, wrath of winds, penetrating rides
Bringing sticks along the way
for fire struggles to remain
Trudging through the mud and streams
While the weight on our backs is gained
Bigger packs with bigger gear
Makes heavy tracks with bigger fear
But discomfort has not begun
We are not here to have good fun…
Prepping meals in frigid chills
While tent stakes battle winds with thrills.
Waking with the stars above
And putting on our warmer gloves
Appetite and lungs in darkness
Feeling flatter than a starfish
Pushing to the top of the ridge
Immersed in fog, get cordinance
The dreamer says, I cannot go on.
But the mind is murkier than the body is strong
Endless ups and downs of doom
To break your brains, bring energy to ruin
Stumbling over rocks and grasses
Reaching Lake Muerte Pungo in lower masses
Visits from foxes in the night
Their eyes shine yellow with slyness in sight.
The night is colder than Grace’s feet (cuz Grace’s feet are cold)
And many struggle to maintain their heat
But alas, warm milk of powder awaits
Breakfast of granola makes up late
We must push for our teachers have left us with Dan
Declan and Lilly to lead us through highlands.
However upon our way we blink
See two Ecuadorian cowboys that think
That is takes five hours for 18 K’s
To get to the camp of Antisana’s base
But this solo isn’t about getting to our goal
It’s all about the love in our group on the whole
The fog immerses us into swamp
The longer the grasses the harder we stomp
And on the radio riddles of bars and knives
If we don’t answer we won’t get resupplied
The thunder is rolling as the as the hills are too
And teachers rejoin us with the rising moon
Walking in darkness with moonlight alone
The stars that compliment summits in moans
Of fog, the equator is the hotspot of constellations
Ella gives animal crackers with patience.
Well, when we first saw Antisana we thought he was a cloud
For the snowcapped glacier of death is loud
Yet Papa Antisana is often very soft
And hiding in precipitation never taking wafts
Of appearance but we scurry up the surface, greeting him with crampons
Drinking water running down his body getting camp on
Making oatmeal with whisper stoves with blister hands
Isiah Davis pumps the stove and saturates with gas
And naturally this results in finger/arm combustion
He runs to the water like an otter in utter indigestion (he’s fine now)
Wake to shake moraines with legs and reach the icy glacier
Finding balance, climbing walls of ice like spicy phasers
And sun defeats the chill with will, de-layering/layering days
For Tita Antisana never solidifies its ways
And we’re crazed with belaying and clawing over surfaces
With ice axes, techniques from France, America with purposes
Joining together in ropes and harnesses
Reaching the highest points of our consciousness
For glacier school is cooler school
You have to jab your feet in, fools!
In ice, heels low but not too high
Self-arrest could save your life
Sliding down the neck of Antisana
And digging in our ice axes holding us on a
Wall of ice with a long way down
Having woken and 3:00AM we rest on the ground
But later that evening we wake in the eve
To push to the summit in four rope teams
The night is the holder of stars over ice rocks
And we reach the high saddle before 6:00AM
The sun hits the south summit, neon white
That turns to yellow as darkness turns to light
And sight is endless as freeing of mind
For 5,850 meters is high
Is a place of awakening, wakening life
The suffering to reach it erases our strife.
Sleeping for hours in physical recovery
Mentally get clarity and ready for the lovely
Independent travel trek, kilometer counting
Legs as motor vehicles through the Andean mountains
Shouting, listening for Tupac and Roberto
Hiding in the bushes, scary like a scarecrow
Also Isiah Davis has another mishap
Falling off a cliff while peeing, like a fish-trap
(but he’s fine now)
The mud sucks Declan under the surface
Black cows in the distance get us nervous
Thinking that they are bulls, they’ve been known to stampede
Semester students, camp in the swamp - no dry feet
Little bugs sucking on our blood till we’re nothing
Continue to the road, drive to lunch munching
Emily Hughs meets us, treks to our next camp
Belongings remaining everlasting damp
Coming down steep tall grass for the resupply
Dinner from Adela makes our taste buds fly.
Now solo, you know, semester splits in half
Two nights trekking with your bros through the laughs
But struggle of teacher-less terrain and other obstacles
Paramo gives four seasons in a day, it’s impossible
Picked up, driven to a lunch buffet
On semester goes to the mountain Cayambe…
Lower camp set on the flat grasses
Recuperate from solo before the lightning flashes
Rest, eat bagels with melted cheese in the sunshine
Take down camp, moving up to the baseline
Of the mountain to wake at 11:00
In the PM for a summit push to heaven
Third highest peak in the land of Ecuador
Thirst in the streets for her beauty and galore
Such deadly moraine to the glacier, yes sir
Looking over we Antisana and we’re less sure
That this summit is summit-able for semester
Some meters higher and packed with competitors
Alas there’s no stopping semester 2015
We will turn this glacier into whipped cream!
And as the sun rises the peak gets closer
Finally we’re highest as we’ll get on semester
Crampon down to moraine, to the base camp
Take down, walk down the road for the bus and
Rain comes so we hitch a ride in a dude’s truck
Driving down Cayambe’s slippery slopes is a must
Finding our bus like a sketchy intersection
Hopping on, on to Palugo is the question?
Yes it’s actually over as the rain falls
Semester sleeps and away pain crawls
Pain that we’ll miss to the ends of our lives
Let Cotopaxi decide…

“I feel closer now to what I’ve left behind,
And the small breaths of my body are ready to receive our rising day.”
                        ~Mayah
Zander, Dan, Isiah, and Mayah in glacier school on Antisana

Merin working on his ice climbing

Lily in a crevasse ice climbing

2015 Ecuador Semester students and guides on the saddle of Antisana

Isiah and Merin on the summit of Cayambe



Jamie doing a handstand on the summit of Cayambe (Jamie also did Vermont Semester '15 and did a handstand on Mt. Abe)

A rope team heading down the glacier of Cayambe

View of Cotopaxi from Antisana

Landscape that was a common sight for students during independent student travel

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Blog #7: PHOTOS

A celebration of our time in between expeditions at Palugo

Zander, Jamie and Merrin cooking in the chozon
Thomas and Grace installing roofs at Palugo for compost and biodynamic teas

Jamie helping with roof installation

Grace's beautiful knife

Dan working on his bag

Mercedes working on her leather bag

Emily working on her leather bag strap

A small peek at students' academic portfolios including crafts, drawings and written word.

Cutting out patterns for quick dry pants at Tatoo

Jamie performing his interpretation of Humpbacks by Mary Oliver

Jacob performing Ode to the Tomato by Pablo Neruda

Enjoying Merrin and Zander's presentation of Fidel Castro

Emily and Lydia performing an interview with Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the father of magical realism

Monday, November 16, 2015

Blog #7: Birthday, Solos, and Expedition Prep!

Having returned from our incredible adventure we are settling in at Palugo like arriving home. Dry belongings are a complete miracle to us. It is a time of celebration: the closing of expedition, the birth of Lil Em (Emily) and the welcoming and mental preparation for solo. We are cleaning up bikes, gnus and other expedition gear, as well as making chocolate chip cookies and chocolate birthday cake with creamy frosting. 

After a predicted colossal breakfast, we break off individually to selected areas on the farm bringing only water, a piece of plastic, a piece of fruit with two crackers (optional) and a climbing cord. We are left here for two nights of significant rain and dropping temperatures. We learn to respect and praise the sun on the deepest level possible. Closing solo we are gathered around a fire to consume a mug of colada and some bread in slow motion, savoring with vibrant awareness. We then enter the sweat lodge for the final phase of cleansing where we sing and revel in the heat, sharing our experiences within the past 50 hours. Recovering both physically and emotionally, we begin to settle in at Palugo into a more rhythmic pattern and perhaps a bit more relaxed as well. 

We begin academics and leatherwork with Roberto. Our academic pages reflect on expedition and focus on two organisms we visited during our journeys. In leatherwork we make book bags using absolutely nothing but leather; for the stitching, the strap and the body itself. Michael leads a geology class where we explore underneath Palugo in clay caves filled with knee-deep water. We are encouraged to turn our headlamps off. We also begin the roofing construction where bokashi will be made: manure/minerals of nutrients and microorganisms for healthy, unabated plant growth. It is all about the love. Many of us work on leveling out dirt mounds for the greenhouse. Merrin and Jamie create some exquisite and scrumptious meals. 

With mostly completed academics and crafts, we are driven to Papallacta hot springs to continue to cleanse our bodies and recover. We acknowledge the Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) by sharing of those who have passed and drink deep, blood red sweet colada (an Ecuadorian drink) to them and bake Guagua de Pan, bread babies with chocolate chips, sprinkles, coconut, nuts and cinnamon sugar. 

Now we are beginning our felt projects and switching gears into our mountaineering expedition preparations. We are felting wool hats or vests. Also we begin to sense various emotional transitions within the semester to address and work through. Physically we are strong as a community and ready for a major excursion in the Andes. Closing academics with English presentations of biographies and poetry, we have vivid and profound performances scattered around Palugo. Personal meetings with our teachers have been strong transitional periods of self-awareness for some students and we are reminded to keep moving forward as a group as we are nearing the end of semester. 

For I, your humble scribe with words of solidification and simplicity for earth dwellers, only have four more updates, my good ladies and gentlemen. I invite you all to read these words like assembling a puzzle for I now send them with step-by-step instructions. Remember one day there will be no puzzle for you when your semester sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, and friends have a future installed where I will not be there to document their lives; and perhaps the obscurity of words is a rehearsal, a rehearsal for an improvised performance of freedom. Please forgive the observations of an experimental artist, but alas no rhyme will follow in these tracks. But perhaps it will return in the mountains for clarity is clearer and friendlier with excitement, my fellow songbirds. Crystal ball: we will be leaving on Saturday for a twelve-day trek of mountaineering where we will be on top of glaciers, perhaps going on a three-day group solo and hopefully summiting both Antisana and Cayambe. Let the future turn to now…

“Give me
the daily
struggle,
because these things are my song.”
            ~Pablo Neruda

San Clemente Reflections:

In San Clemente I like to drink their juice. However if you snooze there is no juice for you. They sluice their juice in pitchers from raspberry, papaya, mango. The resulting syrup is a tango of desire. The best of all is how the glasses are filled tall at every chance: makes me elated I could dance. They say our presence brings the rain, well I say it brings the juice to us, a nice break from biking dust. The sweetness shocks us and the aftertaste rocks us. Oh how it would do to have such a flavorful brew for the rest of the time? Consuming lots of fruit almost rhymes.
                                    ~Merin the elder
on “Juice”


Tired dirty sweaty happy ready
San Clemente welcoming
Leaving in sad joy.
           ~Zander

A Late-Night Sun Poem

            A million and one words are ten days away from you,
And I’m 5 billion steps from the soft bed of the sun.
I feel that sinking in each time I rise
But somewhere along the path of chaotic daylight
I brush it off and shrink away from the countdown.
Trying to shove time along in a neat little pile,
I stumble and land in the middle of it.
So I stay for a minute,
And I mourn for a minute,
And I try hard to feel the movement of the earth underneath me;
Try hard to feel the breathing.
And then I find that it’s late.
And I’m getting too abstract for my own good.
And I sit like a child,
Rubbing my tired eyes,
Aching with distance.
Knowing that it’s all lovely anyway.
I’m bound for the most brilliant of faces.
This belongs to the stars.
This belongs to us.
                  ~Mayah







Monday, November 2, 2015

Blog #6: Bike and Paddle Expedition


Dear Readers, 

We invite you on a journey throughout our first Ecuadorian expedition.  Mountains, craters and rivers, forests and magical encounters. We could not help but offer you, not one, but TWO updates, to lure all tastes and preferences; a narrative account of the adventures, and a lyrical tribute to these experiences...enjoy! 

Preface:
First,  Humble Scribe would like to say
How dearly sorry he is for the delay
These words have traveled through many hands
And many a mile to reach you and…

Expedition Lyrical:
Time is such a silly thing
As thin as wisps of silky string
But it never stops unraveling
As semester won’t stop pedaling.
Waking to prepare the ride
A couple hours sneaking by
The top of Palugo driveway pushes us
Into expedition ludicrous.
Tires flattening, popping chains
Flying down closed-to-car roads that are paved
We're pedaling up cobblestone hills through the clouds.
Though vision's obscured, the landscape is loud.
Finding the train track for travel we may
For three days until we reach San Clemente,
A town in the mountains, hidden in fog
Over ravines and prickers and logs.
The train track leads us into a court--
A basketball court where we drink barley malt,
A sparkling beverage for champions.
And soon we reach Paradiso, avocado land,
The yoga lady’s (Nicole's ) family in the land of no darkness.
For flower plantations illuminate all of us,
Orange in the distance 24/7.
Too many cooks in the kitchen isn't heaven.
Gas powered flames feed us pasta and cheese,
Elongating evenings with semester meetings.
Awake at 5:30, we leave early fairest,
Readying our bikes and scarfing down breakfast,
For a 55 kilometer day
Is the first of its kind for us in Ecuador today.
Beginning to struggle in torment up hills
Makes reaching the top a bliss overfill.
Looking down on the cows looking smaller
Volcanoes shaping these lands where it’s taller.
Finding the train tracks again we travel
Derailleur bend, chains continue to unravel,
Pedaling through the sea of pain
Of pricker plants and misbehaved
Dogs and children chasing us.
The sand is yellow, orange, and red
The tunnel is dark with rocks that shed.
Technical terrain and adrenaline, too
Does “Ecuadorian Flat” mean anything to you?
We settle by the water flow to set up camp
Lentils for dinner and fire for lamp.
Ecuadorian ghost stories
Beckon semester to sleep with ease.

As the sky still dark dawns the day,
We ready our minds and bodies for daze
Of climbing, pedaling faces of mountains
Losing our oxygen, altitude countin’
Breakfast in the plaza of Cayambe.
Through farmland we head on into the Andes
Purchasing cheese and bread we stumble
Upon a ceremony, a drumming of rumble.
Fire and smoke fills the body of the drum;
They dance for the liberation of the Condor.
Siesta before the slopes of doom
Approach us with their gropes of sweaty fume.
And over dying grasses, dirt
Hiking our bikes til day converts
Into night to cross ravines.
Finally we reach Casa del Cerro
The home and family of Mr. Roberto
Where we are served traditional courses
Filling us up like oversized horses.
Mañana semester gathers in a circle
To acknowledge a lamb and its spirit removal.
The knife that slit its throat drew blood
And we stood in silence like frozen mud.
Minga takes the form of rock-rolling construction
Followed by lunch course’s massive eruption;
Sketching the mountains as blind artists
Misjudgment in fingers to find the sharpest
Peak, leak through the roof where the holes dwell
Wake at 3 in the AM for a full spell.
Step after step into elevated grasses
Climbing onto rock faces, reaching new classes.
The summit of Imbabura capturing eyes,
With clouded fog consumption of minds.
Rolling and sliding to Casa del Cerro,
To rest and prepare for descending with airflow.
San Clemente waiting in a stone sun
Inviting us with rain chants, embroidering shirts a ton.
Finding our family to live, eat, and sleep
And learn to make shirts and waking up steep.
Hills are cobblestone leading to 350 families,
Food we’re getting served odors finer than everything.
Semester splits into twins and triplets
To live in a home where we have blankets.
But, waking to Minga with colossal logs
Carried with rope up hills through the fog,
Poles to be formed for building a house.
And semester’s rewarded with a lunch to shout about.
Foods that are new and melt in our mouths
Sweeter or savory, designing shirts in our house.
Later, as evenings are wetter and dark
We dress as San Clementians and hark!
We dance with masked demons into the night,
Music transforming the dance into flight.
Waking to pedal to follow last breakfast
With la familia and so glide down cobblestone, AIR-FEST
We ride through villages and come to a place
Where puppeteer actors greet our face
As we sit underneath our tarp,
We see water collecting leaving its mark…
So we rush to the theater, sleeping bags out
And dry off our bodies, resisting to shout.
Later we pack and leave Cotocachi faded,
To find Santa Rosa where again we are saturated.
Cloud forest truly living up to its name!
We sleep in a school for the ground is just rain…
We begin to realize semester’s half through
And the steps that we’ve been taking backward and what we are to do?
But we reach, on brighter days, a river in the mountains
The land of coffee beans: Rio de Lindo, and we’re shouting,
“Bananas we can pick from trees
and endless avocado trees!”
We settle in like kings and queens,
With tiled bathroom floors and lean
Lay in our hammocks with sore limbs and joints
From the never-ending hills and their points.
So Rio Lindo, filled up gringos
Filling up with coffee beans you can see from your window
Moving rocks from the river in the morning
WARNING: grilled paninis and lemonade pouring.
We travel across a rickety stick bridge
To the basket-maker-people, feeling welcomed like a kiss.
Baskets we weave in these mountains
Filling with ounces of snack mix, water bottle bouncing,

We take all day weaving the baskets we make
While these dwellers finish in the blink of a handshake.
Then we are traveling to the 1930s
To self-sustainable machines and we worry
Because panela is a relative to a stimulant.
The type to fill a bowl and then there’s nothing in it.
But the blocks of it, we are eating lots of it,
Chewing on it til we’re getting shocked by it, lost in it!
Rio Lindo is not that simple,
We got to be aware of the service they attend to.
Now Marco decides to hide from Polo
Michael, Marcela leaving us on solo.
Lily is the leader cuz we’re going to her home
To the mountain of the Intag, coffee in that zone.
On our way, we’re stopping on a hot spring
Hopping in the hot water just like cake under frosting.
Blissing in the hot tubs, slipping down the waterslide
Getting info on Cotopaxi from a bald guy.
Mostly narrow paved roads till we get there,
Greeted with banana smoothie beverages and low gears.
Banana and coffee bean dominating field
Field on the slope of the mountain to yield
Hanging onto tree limbs for dear life
While harvesting the beans to be turned into addicting spice.
Spreading the bokashi--manure and molasses
All over the coffee trees to grow in bigger masses.
Following days we turn the fruit into beans
By grinding them and heating them, roasting out caffeine.
Catching fish inside the tubs
Hollow out their bones and guts
And cook them up for lunch and such
With lots of rice and yucca munch.
Harvesting the aloe vera
Process into soap and share a
Bottle of lotion on bodies
Caring for the burns we carry.
Intag is a land that cries
To rid themselves of mining eyes
For gold, and iron, copper dwells
Cement and uranium as well.
Miners tell farmers to leave their home
And farmers revolt, set fire to stone.
Terrorists, they call them, play music of flame
Rapid guitar strums and voices of gain.
But later that evening was nothing too light
No other than “Men’s Night”!
The men of semester went out in their flight
And returned as different humans that night.
Now the women were festering secrets of wit
To destroy and to raid the “Men’s Night” hit.
But alas, all have survived this exertion
We continue on bikes through village insertion.
Sitting under waterfalls, sleeping in the soccer field--
Mathias gets us pineapple, coconut juice and we’ll
Pedal on till we reach thunder and lightning
Literally on the telephone poles striking.
Nicole leads fire breathing for our sore bodies
Stretching out limbs and our souls like a party.
Then we actually travel by motor and it’s over
Transition into history museum in the clovers--
Native archeological remains in the blaze
Of the lemon tree city and the lunch that we’re made.
In a restaurant, ice cream on our mouths
Semester never gets enough, back to the lightning house.
Now the Dammer brothers three, they arrive in the morning
Thomas and Mathias Dammer
Vessels for the river on their trucks and it’s pouring.
Readying our luggage and our minds for the water flow
Big blue cataraft takes most of it, maybe so.
Cataraft
We’re dry. That’s a lie,
These gnus maybe try,
Jacob and Merin in a gnu



But the currents and hydraulics with waves, they call it white water
Constantly avoiding rooster tails, travel light rather.
Scouting out a rapid before we’re going at it,
And row row row your boat, life is but a habit.
Days on the river come with the fire
To cook up our meals while the water we desire.
Flipping in eddies heading straight for the waves
Always feeling ready to capsize in the haze.
We graze on animal crackers, pick up the pace
As the river gets deeper, angrier in her face
She rips tree limbs to obstruct our lines
And many a mosquito bite on our legs we find.
But we’re fine, in fact radical
Paddle like it’s magical
Factual to the events that were actual.
But we pass by our take out and have to haul our luggage
3 kilometers in two trips through the mud.
And it’s a 4 hours drive to Palugo, you know
That we won’t stop even if the wind blows
And time is still silly, it followed our tires
And wonders if Cotopaxi wakens her fire.
Humble Scribe, Jacob, with baby Koru


Expedition Translation:
Day 1: Palugo – Paradiso (Nicole’s family) = 15km

We left a couple hours later than intended due to a somewhat stressful and energetic pack-out.   At the beginning our biking, we spent the longest time on paved road before reaching the train tracks.   We remained along the tracks biking for the following two days to Casa de Cerro. We arrived at Paradiso, Nicole’s family’s residence. We set up the tarp, which we would call our home for the rest of expedition, in their avocado tree infested yard.   We were gifted fresh fruit and chocolate cake.
Expedition preparation and pack-out
Day 2: Paradiso Cayambe Poco = 55km
Waking up at 5:30 to eat breakfast and leave by 7:00, we began our first longer ride toward Mt. Imbabura. Continuing on the train tracks, we passed through more technical, rocky terrain and heavily overgrown areas, including a number of kilometers through intense thorn bushes.  By the end of the ride we were worn from a couple minor crashes and scars. Our first night “in the bush” we decided to set up camp by the river.   Hannah read us Ecuadorian ghost stories around the fire and we recovered from a long day for a following longer day.
Day 3: Cayambe Casa de Cerro (Roberto’s house)/Mt. Imbabura = 60km
Easily the biggest push during all of expedition was the incline of biking up into the Andes. We packed breakfast to eat in the Plaza of Cayambe, about 10km in. Most of the morning was spent climbing cobblestone and dirt roads. While stopping for lunch to get bread and cheese, we were invited to a ceremony celebrating tDay 1: Palugo – Paradiso (Nicole’s family) = 15km
We left a couple hours later than intended due to a somewhat stressful and energetic pack-out.   At the beginning our biking, we spent the longest time on paved road before reaching the train tracks.   We remained along the tracks biking for the following two days to Casa de Cerro. We arrived at Paradiso, Nicole’s family’s residence. We set up the tarp, which we would call our home for the rest of expedition, in their avocado tree infested yard.   We were gifted fresh fruit and chocolate cake.
he liberation of a bird called the Condor. Intense noise, music, and dancing took place, a significant reminder of the culture surrounding us. Then we began the climb up Mt. Imbabura. This resulted in tears and some extremely heavy breathing. We biked through lumpy fields of trees, ravines, and some very steep downhill terrain. During the afternoon and into the evening we alternately lost and gained altitude. We hiked or biked through harvested wheat fields and dirt for a while.  As it got dark, the trail narrowed over a cliff where Jamie had a frightening experience (He thought he fell farther than he did.   Below him was less distance than it seemed in the darkness). We arrived at Casa de Cerro at 7:00pm, a little more than a twelve hour ride. A magnificent dinner was waiting for us and we warmed ourselves around the fire.
Day 4: Casa de Cerro (no distance)
The day began with a delicious breakfast that came in courses which amazed us. Then we gathered in a circle for the slaughter of a lamb that we cooked and ate later that evening. We mingaed working on a rock foundation for a house. Marcela led a blind-contour line drawing exercise of the mountains. Most of the day was siesta and recovery from the day before and we began to feel at home at Casa de Cerro.
Day 5: Casa de Cerro/Mt. Imbabura (= 6km) – San Clemente = 5.5km
We woke up at 3:00am for a very light breakfast of colada and began our hike to the summit of Mt. Imbabura. The first half of the hike was mostly through tall grass and we’d often look down to see the glow of the city at the base of the mountain. The terrain became more rocky and difficult to maneuver as we entered thick cloud and zipped up our jackets. When we reached the summit we could see nothing but gray and white and we began our descent shortly after arriving. We returned to Casa de Cerro for lunch and began biking down the slopes of the mountain to San Clemente. We were greeted and we met the families with whom we would be staying in groups of twos or threes. We also began designing the shirts which we would embroider and were served absolutely outstanding dinners by our families.  At day's end, we had well deserved showers.
Day 6: San Clemente (no distance)

Our families continued to amaze us with breakfast and we began our Minga. We moved giant logs from the marshes up to the town for the construction of a house. We spent a number of hours on this until the largest buffet of food was laid out for us.   We tried a number of new plates and vegetables. We did our academic work and embroidery for the rest of the day until dinner. Following dinner we had a fiesta and danced wildly in masks and costumes to the native music of the area performed live.
Moving a "giant" log for home construction
Day 7: San Clemente Cotocachi = 30km
This was a  day of biking mostly downhill and passing through a number of villages.   We were hit with some rain that we assumed was triggered from our rain chant at San Clemente. We arrived at the house of a friend of Michael and Marcela, who wasn’t home.   However there were two puppeteers there who allowed us to stay. While setting up camp, classical music burst from the inside of the theater. During our routine sharing, we looked down and noticed the lawn was becoming a pond around us and we evacuated into the theater where we dried out everything and spent the evening.
Day 8: Cotocachi Santa Rosa =40km
This ride was balanced by an enormous uphill from morning into early afternoon and was followed by 20km of a just as steep, paved downhill. We stopped to see a volcanic pond and arrived at a somewhat closer destination due to another extreme downpour through the cloud forest. We needed to do some legwork to arrange to sleep in a school and dry out all of our belongings again. During this time we became aware that we were halfway through semester and what we needed to improve in the group within our remaining time together.
Day 9: Santa Rosa Rio Lindo =15km
Making up for the past couple days of super rain, the hot sun beat on our shoulders as we climbed an intense 15km uphill to Rio Lindo, a coffee farm by a river. We had our first river dunk in Ecuador when we arrived.  We stayed in a resort-like setting with bunks, hammocks, and other recreational luxuries like showers and oversized meals with pitchers of coffee.
Day 10: Rio Lindo (no distance)
Our first full day at Rio Lindo we did chores and had a very full breakfast. Shortly after, we were picked up and rode in the back of trucks to a mysterious place where even the teachers were unsure just what to expect.  We only knew that we would be taught how to weave baskets. When we arrived, we had to cross a bridge consisting of some sticks and a couple wires as handrails. These people welcomed us like no other.  We were served juices and taught to weave little baskets beautifully. We were also served an incredible lunch of fish and rice.

Day 11: Rio Lindo (no distance)
After yet another unreal breakfast, we biked to see sugar processed. In Ecuador they make a pure “sweet” called panela which comes directly from the sugar cane and is made in a similar way to maple syrup. The machine was in use during the 1930s and still functions as one of the most self-sustainable processes we’d yet seen. The power of the river current is harnessed by a device, which is made up of bike parts and other recycled materials. We’d never consumed the amount of sugar that we did that day, mainly because the amount of it that surrounded us in various forms. The return bike ride was mostly downhill, but did not quite make up for all that sugar.
Day 12: Rio Lindo Intag (Lily’s house) = 40km
This day was elected as group solo which meant that all of our instructors left us to make the 40km commute through the valley by ourselves. On our way we stopped at hot springs and chilled out for an hour there. The remainder of the trip was a bit stressful for the group, arising from unimportant arguments and perhaps the lack of teacher guidance. Most of the ride to Intag was uphill which drained us after 4 days of drinking coffee and eating panela. Our instructors met us there as we arrived.   We said goodbye to Michael and Marcela and welcomed Matthias and Nicole as our new instructors to stay with us at Intag and wrap up the bike leg of the expedition.
Day 13: Intag (no distance)
Lily’s farm is also a coffee farm but at higher elevation than Rio Lindo.  The trees are grown on the slope of the mountain. Our chores and Minga entailed spreading the bokashi, which is cow manure, rock minerals, and molasses, and very healthy for soil and plant growth. Many banana trees grow here as well, which we harvested and ate with meals. We also got to see the process of soap making which they make from their aloe vera.
Day 14: Intag (no distance)
For the start of the day we went fishing in the tubs at Intag and gutted them to be cooked for lunch with rice and yucca. After enjoying our lunch we harvested and processed coffee. First we picked the fruit from the trees and picked out the duds by seeing which ones floated in water. Then we ground them revealing the “bean” and began roasting them--the shorter the roast, the darker the bean. Later that evening we were visited by Lily’s uncle, an activist against mining,  who educated us. Gold, uranium, cement, and copper are abundant in the Intag area.  Mining had become unreasonable so farmers who were forced to leave their homes reacted violently. Families like Lily’s are trying to prove to the government that less destructive processes like coffee and soap making are more sustainable.
Day 15: Intag (no distance)
In the morning we walked through the forest to take a mandatory dip into a waterfall. We had another fiesta that night.  Lily’s father and uncle play in a band which performed epic songs with two nylon string guitars and haunting harmonies.  Again we danced wildly, nearly destroying the little house.  That evening was Men’s Night where the men disappeared into the banana forest and returned as different people.  The women tried to raid Men’s Night by theft and bribe.   This, of course,  meant war.
Day 16:  Intag Playa Rica =23km
Finally getting back on our bikes we stopped at a waterfall to cool down and snack. While stopping for lunch a man came out from his house and gave us tons of bananas. After a full day of dirt roads and “Ecuadorian Flat”, we arrived in Playa Rica to get bananas and decided to spend the evening on the soccer field there.
Day 17: Playa Rica Palmito Pamba  = 35km
The final day of our bike leg we pushed up a lot of uphill. Mathias got us fruit juices in a small town where they blasted Michael Jackson for us gringos. We beat the rain to our destination, a farm where we were able to get fresh milk for oatmeal the next morning.
Day 18: Palmito Pamba (no distance)
After cleaning up the bikes and recuperating from the last bike leg, we went to a museum to see archeological remains of natives in the area. We went out for lunch and got some ice cream. We went back to the farm and began expedition preparations for Rio Mulaute, where we were joined by Thomas and reunited with Michael. During this prep we were hit with a harsh thunder storm during which lightning struck a telephone pole only meters away.
Day 19: Palmito Pamba Rio Mulaute = 2km
Finishing the last of our preparations in the morning, Francisco arrived with the truck for the boats followed by the van.  We packed for an hour and a half drive to Rio Mulaute. After unpacking all our gear, we got lunch and got in the water to practice swimming white water. Then we got in our gnus, kayaks, and kataraft to head on down the rapids. Many capsized as it was the first day in gnus on constant class 3 rapids. We pitched a camp in the pouring rain and by evening the river had turned to chocolate.
Day 20: Rio Mulaute = 4km
After an anxiety overload during camp takedown, we got in the fast moving water and maneuvered through enlarged river features. The river began to settle as the day progressed but the current pushed us a much farther distance. We would stop before each rapid to scout out our line.  Even by day two, we began to gain a better understanding of the water. We set up camp and shared deeper thoughts and our relation to the river in a circle.





Day 21: Rio Mulaute = 3km
The nature of the river began to curve and bend a bit more on the third day which meant securing our angle and powering our strokes to avoid crashing into the banks. We worked more on eddy catching and differentiating hydraulics and waves. We set up camp right on a beach which meant we had to establish an evacuation plan. We agreed that evening that the next day we would do group solo down the river to our take out.
Day 22: Rio Mulaute = 9km
Luckily the rains held off until early morning.  We woke at 5:00 to start taking down camp. By the time we finished, the water had passed where our tents had been.  We had to wait a couple of hours for the water to calm down. Naturally, solo was not going to happen due to the destructive weather. Once we were in the violent water, we made 9km in less than half the amount of time it took us to make 4km.  We also passed the takeout point, which meant we had to carry all of our gear on foot for 3km through farmland and mud in two trips. Francisco arrived shortly after we were settled and we drove back to Palugo where hot soup was waiting for us.

Glossary: Minga:  A work party


Our light and joy your way,
Ecuador Semester 2015