The Next Few Months

Hello, dearest fellow travelers. Some of you have asked for an update on where I’m headed next and what my longer-term plans are. I’m excited about what’s next: On Sunday, I fly back to the States for a couple weeks, to visit with family and friends. Then in mid-July, I fly to London. I’ll visit with family and friends in England, and my cousin and I will take a trip somewhere in western Europe together. I hope to go to the Edinburgh Fringe Fest, and maybe see some parts of the UK I haven’t before. If you’re in the UK and want to meet up, let me know!

I think I can stretch my money til the end of the summer. After that, well, that is a good question. I need to get a job somewhere. I have an EU passport, so I could work anywhere in the EU, or I could return to the States. Both of those sound appealing to me, so I might cast a very wide search and see what happens. If you know of any freelance editorial work, even just proofreading a resume or something, or if you hear of any leads on long-term office work, please let me know at lisa dot findley [at] gmail dot com. Steady work after two years will be the next adventure!

The Majesty of Iguazu Falls: A Photo Essay

Dearest fellow travelers, I have been to many amazing places and seen many incredible things on this trip, like Uluru and Angkor and Machu Picchu, and while those all awed me, none filled me with joy the way Iguazu Falls did. I walked a lot the two days I visited the falls, but my sorest muscles are in my face, from the non-stop grinning.

GRINNING

GRINNING

The week before I visited, there were such heavy rains that the subsequent flooding at the falls set records. This meant that a couple of the cool walks were closed on the Argentinian side–the bridges over the falls in those areas had been swept away–but there was still plenty to see.

Here, let’s look at a bunch of photos together:

The water levels were the highest they've been in decades

The water levels were the highest they’ve been in decades

Mesmerized

Mesmerized

Looking down was a rush

Looking down was a rush

And then there was this

And then there was this

Dozens of rainbows

Dozens of rainbows

I got pretty soaked standing in the shadow of this one

I got pretty soaked standing in the shadow of this one

Dos Hermanas--the two sisters--at the end of the Lower Trail

Dos Hermanas–the two sisters–at the end of the Lower Trail

Looking down from the Upper Trail

Looking down from the Upper Trail

And more wonders

And more wonders

The island in the middle of the falls; it was too dangerous to approach when I visited, because of the water levels

The island in the middle of the falls; it was too dangerous to approach when I visited, because of the water levels

That would be part of the Upper Trail. That section is currently closed.

That would be part of the Upper Trail. That section is currently closed.

I went on a boat ride to get up close and personal. This is before we went farther in and got completely, 100% soaked.

I went on a boat ride to get up close and personal. This is before we went farther in and got completely, 100% soaked.

There was a lot of mist in the late afternoon, when I went, so the falls didn't translate as well on camera, but they looked really cool from the boat

There was a lot of mist in the late afternoon, when I went, so the falls didn’t translate as well on camera, but they looked really cool from the boat

River-level view

River-level view

And now a break, in which I show you pictures of raccoon-like animals that you might think are kind of cute but are actually vicious little food thieves and biters. Coatis are wild animals native to the area, and although the ones outside the tourist areas keep to themselves (as wild animals ought), the ones in the tourist areas have figured out that they can get food a lot more easily by begging and outright taking it from tourists. I had food in my bag, and when the bag was hanging by my side while I took a selfie, a coati pounced on it! I won that fight, but yikes.

They creep up on you

They creep up on you

With their little anteater-like faces

With their little anteater-like faces

And their indignant raccoon-like tails

And their indignant raccoon-like tails

The Brazil park had this guy running around taking photos with kids, which I think sends a confusing message: Don't touch or feed them! But also, cuddly friend!

The Brazil park had this guy running around taking photos with kids, which I think sends a confusing message: Don’t touch or feed them! But also, cuddly friend!

Back to the beautiful, this time on day 2, when I went to the Brazilian side of the falls:

I mean, this is an pretty good introduction to the falls

I mean, this is a pretty good introduction to the falls

Good job, Nature

Good job, Nature

Now you're just showing off

Now you’re just showing off

More grinning

More grinning

You can walk out in the middle of the falls in the upper level on the Brazilian side

You can walk out in the middle of the falls in the upper level on the Brazilian side

You might get a little damp doing so

You might get a little damp doing so (people heading out on the ramp looked at me, aghast, as I headed back in–one woman grabbed my arm and said something in concern, and one man laughed out loud at my bedraggled state)

Right in the middle of the action

Right in the middle of the action

You can also go up an elevator for a view pretty high up

You can also go up an elevator for a view pretty high up

Which was a cool perspective

Which was a cool perspective

The Brazilian side

The Brazilian side

The final view from the Argentinian side

The Argentinian side

Cuenca Houses of Worship in Ruins and in Splendor

Like every other place in the conquered Inca empire, Cuenca shows the the effects of the Spanish: the Inca buildings were torn down and the materials used to build the Europeans’ civic buildings and churches. However, in Cuenca, the foundation stones of the Inca buildings are well-preserved enough that we can get a good sense of the size and function of the complex.

The foundation stones of the grand Inca building that used to be here

The foundation stones of the grand Inca building that used to be here

It was a palace, comprised of soldiers’ barracks, quarters for virgins dedicated to the sun god, a temple, farming terraces, and other structures necessary to support a center of Inca activity. The ruins were excavated by a team led by Max Uhle, the German archaeologist, from 1919 to 1923. The ruins nowadays include a reconstruction of gardens, down the hill from the main structures, an aviary, and, naturally, a snack stand.

Replanted gardens

Replanted gardens

Reconstructed section

Reconstructed section

As with every other major Inca structure, the ruins of Pumapungo (“gate of the puma”) are situated precisely on the compass rose, aligned with mountains and other natural formations of spiritual significance. From atop the hill, looking out over the river curving around the base of the ruins, it’s easy to see why this might be a strategic as well as inspirational spot to set up a major hub in your expanding empire.

These were the first Inca ruins I saw--the first of several

These were the first Inca ruins I saw–the first of several

The ruins are behind the Banco Central and the Museo Pumpapungo, so after touring the ruins and feeling the first hint of rain on my jacket, I went inside the museum. I bypassed the display on money and went to the side room display on the Incas. It was an odd mix of meticulously made costumes and empty display cases, and I only got a muddled sense of the people who lived and died here 600 years ago.

Photos weren't allowed in the museum, so I just snuck a couple, like this one, showing the Incas worshiping.

Photos weren’t allowed in the museum, so I just snuck a couple, like this one, showing the Incas worshiping

Upstairs, a much better display awaited me–an entire floor devoted to the different ethnic groups of Ecuador, from the jungle-dwelling people in the Oriente, to the various highlands groups in the Andes, to the people living along the coast. Musical instruments, masks used for celebrations, clothing worn to indicate status, and everyday work tools were the most frequently displayed items.

Masks for all occasions

Masks for all occasions

Finally, one small, dark room at the end of the hall showed the famous shrunken heads of the Shuar people of the Amazon jungle. (Head shrinking was outlawed a few decades ago, so now they can only shrink the heads of animals, like sloths.) This is the only exhibit in the museum to include English translations alongside the Spanish placards, and the display includes a lot of information on the Shuar people in general, before getting to the head-shrinking. A few shrunken heads were on display, and they were eerie and grotesque, as you might expect.

But my favorite part of the exhibit was the careful way the text explained why the Shuar did this–to make sure the soul of the deceased, contained in the head, could not return–and that it wasn’t always done to enemies, but sometimes to Shuar people who had killed. Killing was so taboo that the killer was himself put to death and his head shrunk so his tainted spirit couldn’t return and inhabit another person. That’s a very different thing from the bloodthirsty savage we likely all imagined, right?

The final placard of the exhibit made this plea: “The ‘Shuar’ are a people who merit respect, and even if many of their customs have changed for diverse reasons, they maintain themselves as a group proud of their past and of their present, a true example of the diverse ethnic communities of Ecuador. Because being ‘civilized’ does not imply casting aside the historic and cultural baggage from which our being originates.” That’s a major statement for a group to make in Ecuador, where indigenous groups were until very recently legally discriminated against, and are still struggling against the racism of city-dwelling Ecuadorians. I was impressed to see the statement made here.

Llama city grazing, naturally

Llama city grazing, naturally

I was in Cuenca during the last two days of Carnaval, and the city was a ghost town, which meant I spent a lot of my time taking photos of street art and wandering empty streets, dodging small children with foam cans. It also meant that all the churches were closed, so I didn’t really get to go inside any, but here are a few shots of the exteriors.

eh

I’m not sure which this one was

Sacred Heart on a church door

Sacred Heart on a church door

i dunno

San Sebastian

The New Cathedral was a boring brown brick building, but the doors and the domes were great. Apparently, the interior has a lot going for it. I’ll have to check it out during a non-holiday sometime.

Splendid doors of the New Cathedral

Splendid doors of the New Cathedral

Domes of the New Cathedral

Domes of the New Cathedral

The Old Cathedral

The Old Cathedral

I don't remember what church this was, just that I was struck by the sunset making it glow

La Merced

Waterfalls and Hummingbirds in Mindo

It’s no secret that waterfalls are my favorite natural phenomenon (a phenomenon, yes; although it’s just gravity tugging at a stream, it always seems more than that). I’ve wondered how far I might go to see them, and after my visit to Mindo, Ecuador, I have a partial answer: I’ll walk two hours on a sprained ankle to see a waterfall.

The last waterfall

The last waterfall of the hike

Mindo is a small town about two and a half hours outside of Quito, in a cloud forest–wonderful phrase–in the mountains. The town itself consists of about six streets, but it sees a lot of tourism in high season, because it’s a great spot for birdwatching, and they’ve also turned it into a little adventure sports destination. Of course, the first thing my eye was drawn to in the hostel’s brochure was “cascada”–waterfall.

You can see why it's called a cloud forest

You can see why it’s called a cloud forest

Getting to the series of waterfalls was a small adventure in itself. A small group of us piled into the cab and flatbed of a local man’s pickup truck, and he drove us out of town, up the very bumpy unpaved road, for $2 per person. Then four of us climbed into a tiny, open-topped wire cage suspended from a cable, and we whizzed across the treetops. It was exhilarating, just one minute long, but it felt like flying.

The tiny cable car

The tiny cable car

We were quite high up

We were quite high up

On the other side, we descended and the cable car worker gave us a small, mostly useless map of the park, so we could decide which waterfalls to visit in which order. The trail, made of packed dirt and smooth stones, was a bit treacherous, as the daily afternoon rains had made the stones slick and the dirt sloppy mud. Within fifteen minutes, I’d slipped and fallen on my butt. When I stood up, I felt the all-too-familiar twinge of a twisted ankle, but I hobbled down to the waterfall anyway. It was okay, but small and a little far away, so I decided to ignore the throbbing in my ankle and go on to the next few. These were much lovelier, and worth the painful walk.

Looking through a hollow tree branch

Looking through a hollow tree branch

A couple let you get very up close and personal: at one, I had to wade through shallow waters downstream from the waterfall, to continue on the trail on the other side. At another, I kicked off my shoes and scrambled up a rock to better admire the waterfall, while other visitors battled the strong current to get right up to the crashing water itself. A whole gaggle of teenagers on a field trip splashed their way to the base of the waterfall and took selfies, including one couple that demanded their friend photograph them making out in the spray. Ah, youth.

mindo

I didn’t go on any early-morning birdwatching tours in Mindo, but I did want to see at least some. I split a cab ride up to a private home about ten kilometers out of town, called Mindo Lindo (“beautiful Mindo”). The owner, Pedro, told us to take a walk around the grounds, which consisted of dense trees and bushes.

Hand-planted jungle

Hand-planted jungle

When we returned, he informed us that he and his wife had moved here twenty years ago, when it was all grass, and they’d planed the forest by hand, even ferrying in water in buckets, as the river hadn’t been diverted yet. After five years, there were enough trees and insects for hummingbirds to be attracted to the area, and now there are 28 types of hummingbirds on the five acres they own.

There were so many, flitting here, alighting there

There were so many, flitting here, alighting there

We saw eight different types of hummingbirds in the feeder-laden trees next to the porch. Pedro let us take turns holding one of the feeders, and the birds flew right up to us, some perching on the feeder, but most fluttering right next to it as they dipped their thin beaks in the sugar water. They were different colors, but all had an iridescent shine to them. They made a thrumming sound, which wasn’t their tiny heartbeats but their rapid wingbeats.

mindo mindo

Pedro explained that different hummingbirds fed from different flowers, based on the curve of the hummingbird’s beak and the curve of the flower’s stamen. He opened up a book of birds and pointed out the ones we were looking at, and then he fed us granadillas and lemongrass tea as the afternoon sun glinted off the blur of wings in front of us.

mindo