Counting

A wave of homesickness hit me last night, together with the rain that poured in through the decrepit taxi’s window (I left it open to air out the gasoline fumes filling the car). My “traveler’s Spanish” has been exhausted, and I feel bad that I have not spent the time to learn Spanish properly. My well-intentioned resolutions to go home and study Spanish always seem to evaporate quickly after I return home from a Spanish-speaking country. Another stomach bug – Ecuadorian version – has found me too, which has not helped matters any.

Yesterday I went with a guide and one other tourist to Cajas National Park, not too far outside Cuenca, but a world away from city influence. This is a huge watershed area, blessed with hundreds of lakes, that provides Cuenca’s water supply. It feels pristine, thanks to aggressive conservation efforts by the city’s water department, which runs it. “Cajas” means cold in Quechua (local language), and indeed the area lived up to its name after the clouds rolled in and the rain started.

I fly home 11 days from now, and although I have the Galapagos Islands yet to come, I am looking forward to getting back among familiar faces.