Adventures in Ecuador: Seeing Jake Again

We're back from our sojourn to Ecuador. Loved it. Loved it. Loved it.

There is a sultry smell to South America that is born of heat, humidity, sweat, dirt, car exhaust and the occasional rainstorm. I just couldn't ever feel completely clean once I left the confines of the air-conditioned hotel but that's part of the experience.

Ecuador? It has American power. The electrical plugs were just like back home. No European vacation-like blowing out the circuits. Computers, phones, and Kindles were always fully charged.

Ecuador's official currency? The United States dollar.

What's on TV on Sunday in Ecuador? American Futbol.

Is it just me, or is this country screaming to be the 51st state?

Not only did we have football games on the TV but were blessed to an NFL triple-header that ended with the Eagles beating the Giants to take over sole possession of first place in the NFC Beast. I felt like I was back home just without the HD.


By the time our crew got to Ecuador, we had about 24 hours until we picked up our missionary. Since Alec is fluent in Spanish, we turned over our shopping negotiations to him. By the time monday arrived, Janae was more than ready to see her son again. Me too. The 2pm scheduled pickup took place 23 excrutiatingly slow minutes later. When the door to the office finally opened, there was our Jake. We embraced and in a split second the last 2 years seemed to have past in an instant. First impressions: He was taller than before. Tan. Skinny. Handsome. Seeing him for the first time in 2 years was better than I could have ever scripted it.







Of course the reunion with Jake required a lot of hand sanitizer. Allow me to explain. Shaking hands with a dozen missionaries who shook hands with at least 3 dozen people who had done heaven knows what earlier in the day necessitated my overusage of purell to the point of exhaustion. Once I thought I was fully disinfected, another missionary would waltz in and shake everyones hand. Again. Grrrrr……


Our first stop after dropping off the luggage was to Iguana Park. Riding in a cab through some serious traffic, windows down, I gulped in so much car exhaust that it gave me a splitting headache. That soon passed once we started playing with the reptiles. Iguanas were everyone...in the trees, on the grass, cruising the park for food and posing for pictures with the gringo family from Las Vegas.





We spent a lot of time visiting with some of the families that Jake had grown close to while serving in Guayquil. Just like our trip to Peru a few years ago to pick up Alec, we fell in love with the people we met.


On Tuesday we hopped a bus for a 3 hour ride to Machala. I heard that in the United States some bus companies offer a “frequent rider” program that mirrors airline mileage awards. Do you know how pathetic your life is if you have a frequent rider bus card? In South America, the buses are a necessity - and surprisingly, they run pretty much like clockwork.

I digress.

Machala is the banana capital of the world. Seriously. We were treated to a variety of different bananas. This gringo had previously thought there was only 1 kind of banana....I now stand corrected.

The best part of the trip was providing Christmas presents to Freddy and his family. That a family of 5 live in what is essentially a hut on stilts was, to me, profoundly sad. Their "home" is about 15 feet x 15 feet. 2 twin beds. There is no running water, no toilet, and a single electrical outlet that powered up an old refrigerator. The place reeked too - It took me a half hour to peg the smell. It smelled like the inside of a fishing creel - you know, with dead fish. The 3 boys loved their gifts and were probably the most well behaved 10, 9, and 8 year olds I have ever been around.





The mean streets of Machala required that we take cabs everywhere...even if it was for only a few blocks. A family we visited with insisted we take this precaution. I told Jake to translate the following: "In America, my dad's hands are registered as weapons." Laughter all around. "Take a cab," was their reply.

"Ok. I believe you."

Leaving Ecuador was difficult and not just because of the people we said farewell to....


The airport in Guayaquil is apparently staffed with patients from a mental hospital.
Delta didn’t open the first class check in line so we had to stand in line behind the Ecuadorian circus in order to get boarding passes and check our bags. This took at least a half hour. The sarcasm began to drip from my mouth....sometimes I can't stop it. I am impatient.

Then comes the Ecuadorian extortion part: Another line over to the left is for some sort of airport tax....$28 bucks per head on the way out of the country – cash only. This is not in any travel book. The guy then short changes me by $10 bucks which we corrected on the spot.

Starvin' we had two choices at 10pm; a frozen hot croissant (I know), or a tuna fish sandwich. We opted for the croissant not knowing that the outside would be piping hot while the inside remained frozen. Yum yum. Burp.

Leaving only got worse after that. Going through security I was wanded for the 1st time but was able to keep my shoes on. We were being paged. I was summoned to go downstairs for a luggage check. Hmmmmmnnnn???? Despite numerous international adventures, this was a first: One of our bags was randomly selected to be searched. I was escorted down the jetway, down a set of stairs, walked past a couple of jet aircraft and taken to the bowels of the luggage area. Once there, I was told to select my bag. There were 3 very serious looking dudes wearing cammo pants, combat boots and tight black t-shirts standing by. One of them picked his way through the luggage and sniffed anything that might conceal Ecuadorian artifacts or drugs. I was also wanded a second 2nd time. After 20 minutes I was escorted back to the gate.

Strange.

Now it was time to board the plane. I was wanded 3rd time; my carry on baggage was searched by hand also for the 3rd time and by now I was really being sarcastic with the patients who were running the assylum. I was in group 1 to board and ended up being the last person on the plane. Alec, Tiffany and Jake were laughing as they passed me taking off my belt, emptying my pockets for the umpteenth time and having steam come out of my ears.


Once onboard I needed a cold fresca...but the lazy-ass flight attendant said there would be no ground service so they could get the plane off faster.

Puzzled look on Keith's face. "Come again?"

Then my headphone battery dies just as plane takes off. 5+ hours of airplane noise. No Led Zeppelin. No Stones. No Tommy Bolin. Uggghhhhhh…….

You know what though? All the hassles of traveling were more than worth it so we could go and see where Jake has spent the last 2 years of his life.

We love having Jake back.