Not What You Would Expect

Well, our country experiment failed before it ever got started. After all the hard work that Paul and Sylvia put in to finding us a place, working things out with our prospective landlord, pulling strings at the Pachamama school to get Maya and Jonah admitted at the end of the school year, driving us back and forth from Tumbaco and Quito, Rebecca and I made a last minute decision that we aren't going to move to Tumbaco. What flakes!

But, it turns out that we agree more with our American friend who suggested we live in the city. This is the real Ecuador experience, baby! Tumbaco is a beautiful barrio (actually, the neighborhood Paul and Sylvia live in is a beautiful place. Tumbaco is more of a place you need to pass through to get to a beautiful place), and it would be our first choice of a place to live if we actually lived in Ecuador. But, for a few month visit, we felt like the city was a better fit for us.

By moving to Tumbaco, we were giving up too many of the conveniences that the city has to offer. I've mentioned the fruteria and grocery that are walking distance. The public transportation here is easily accessible and cheap. The language schools that Opa and I want to enroll in are in Quito. In case our mop or broom breaks, PoPo can just walk down to the street and buy a new one (we saw a guy walking the streets with brooms and mops on his back - reminiscent of my younger days when the vacuum salesmen used to knock at our door and demonstrate his products. Does that still happen?)

(Column Intermission I. I was also solicited on the street yesterday by a woman selling eggs. She had a basket of eggs and offered me 20 for a negotiable price. Since I was not in a situation to transport 20 eggs in a plastic bag back to my apartment immediately, I had to decline. Better she had been selling beer.)

And, not that money was the deciding factor, but living in Tumbaco was going to be about three times more expensive than living in the city. Which seems a bit backward to me. Isn't living in the city supposed to be more expensive than living in the country? Not here.

The rent of the house was double the rent of the apartment. We would have needed to rent a car because, essentially, nothing was walking distance. The cheapest car rental we found was $1,000 per month. Yes, $1,000 per month, and that is not to rent a Lincoln Town Car. Pachamama was a hundred bucks more per kid. So, it added up. Plus, Rebecca's commute would have at least doubled.

I had seen the house earlier in the week and it looked just about ready to move in. So, Rebecca and I had discussed spending the night on Thursday at the house and bringing the kids to Pachamama on Friday. When Vinicio's son, Danny, who speaks English, called me on Wednesday while I was on the slopes of Pichincha, he told me the place was ready and Vinicio wanted us to sign some papers and leave a deposit. We arranged to do this on Thursday night at the house. Perfect.

So, Thursday, my in-laws and I spent all morning packing our remaining bags, emptying the cupboards and the refrigerator, gathering up the kids' marbles that are all over the place, etc. etc. We had a lot of stuff. Then we hauled it all to the street, flagged a taxi, and negotiated a price to drive down there (you should have seen the dollar signs in the driver's eyes when he pulled over and realized we needed to get all our bags and ourselves into his cab and drive for 30 minutes). It ended up costing $13, by far our most expensive cab ride.

But, when we got to the house, the construction dust that lined everything had not been cleaned. There was no hot water. There was no mattress in the master bedroom. We couldn't put our stuff away. This turned out to be lucky, because after my in-laws and I discussed what we would all do all day in this oasis of country-living, we decided it wasn't for us. Rebecca and I had previously spent a few hours discussing the pros and cons. I called Rebecca at work and she basically told me to make a decision. So I did. I feel like if I really wanted us to live there, I wouldn't have had such mixed feelings. I guess I'm not tired yet of the dog shit, glass, and smog. Probably next week I will be.

Rebecca then had to call Vinicio (the house owner) and tell him we decided not to rent his house. He said okay. Just like that. He was a bit of an asshole to us through the whole process (not a deciding factor in us not staying in his house, but I feel like I needed to say it). He was probably glad to be rid of us demanding Americans.

The harder part was telling Paul and Sylvia. They were understanding. My biggest regret about not living in Tumbaco is that we won't develop as close a relationship with them as we would have. They are truly, amazing, talented, humble people who offer a lot in the way of friends. Hopefully, we can establish some sort of relationship with them that is not based on them doing things for us.

But, the final thing they did for us was call us some taxis to get all our stuff out of the house and back to our apartment. While we were waiting for the taxis, Paul was playing the piano (some Mariah Carey and Bryan Adams), Maya was running around their house with their youngest daughter, Elisa, and Jonah was playing basketball with a random ball and a random hoop. Not exactly the type of situation you want to drive away from.

It took three taxis to get all our bags and ourselves back to Quito. This supplanted our previous taxi ride to Tumbaco as the most expensive cab ride we have taken.

So, we are back in our apartment. My in-laws spent part of yesterday (Friday) looking around for a place to live for the next eight weeks and found something that they like. They make a final decision on Monday. Carmen called and let us know that we could use her extra car for weekend or day trips at a rate of $30 a day. So, today, we are going to a town called Otavalo, which has a large Saturday market of indigenous crafts and is situated in a beautiful valley.

Also yesterday morning (Friday), Rebecca and I took the kids to the school that Jonah barfed at and arranged for Maya to start full-time on Monday and for Jonah to attend M/W/F. To seal the deal, the school celebrated two students' birthday parties yesterday. So Maya and Jonah got to eat TWO cups of ice cream. They love that school!

After Maya and Jonah ate ice cream, I was able to leave them alone at the school for about 45 minutes with no phone call from the teacher asking me to come and get them. Before the ice cream, they had been rather clingy. Is there anything that ice cream can't fix?

So, if you read tea leaves, it seems like they are lined up for us.