Quito

Pilots need special licenses to fly into Quito. According to Jaime, an Ecuadorian pilot I met on the plane, flying into Aeropuerto Mariscal Sucre is the second hardest descent in the world. When it was built, Mariscal was north of the city. Now, it’s in the city.

As Ecuadorians seek out a better life in their nation’s capital (not always successfully), the lights of Quito continue to trickle out like a river. Flanked by mountains on both sides, there’s only the north-south option. In these longitudinal sectors—far away from the colonial old city or the modern business districts—some of the poorest residents eek out a living, where the markets are especially vibrant, and where the planes fly precariously low.

But the airplane noise recedes into the din of daily life in this city. While not large (population 1.6 million), Quito crammed in a lot of life. In the old sector, preserved by UNESCO for its palatial glory, tiny lunch spots peak out from numerous old doors. Central courtyards rise us from dark allies. Cobblers and other craftsman continue to refine the art of the men’s leather dress shoe. Every five minutes, el Trolle punctuates the stately mood, greeting the old stone streets with its tune similar to an ice cream truck.

Hop on the efficient trolley for a quarter, and you leave the plazas and churches for Quito’s newer sectors. Watch your step as you exit, as the drivers are out for blood. Lots of shops, some interesting and others unspectacular, line the main streets along with modern buildings (and a very fancy Mariat). Get used to the armed guards standing outside of businesses—they are a more frequent sitting then the police.

The Mariscal Sucre sector, or “gringolandia,” is a particular phenomenon. There must be 100 places to log onto the Internet in an area no bigger than SoHo, NYC. The neighborhood capitalizes on the huge tourist influx to Quito—to study Spanish or as gateway for ecotourists—but locals frequent it as well. Some of the best salsatecas, bars and restaurants are in gringolandia. And it’s a great place to get overcharged for a cab ride (but really, is $3 that much?)

I could go on and on about Quito, as I spent most of my trip walking its streets and meeting its people. It’s here that I spoke six hours a day en castellano about politics, dollarization and life with my Spanish teacher. It’s where I realized that salsa dancing in New York is much different than in South America, and did my best at it at least once a day. It’s where I met the most people—not a difficult feet given how friendly Quiteños are.

Of course, not everything was rosy. Todd and I got unsuccessfully mugged while walking in a wealthy area around 9 p.m. But these “banditos” seemed to be looking more for a thrill than our wallets (they actually wanted a cell phone), and despite the gun waving, they let us go easily. And things can feel very sad in the capital of an economically struggling country. Seeing 8-year-old children trying to sell gum or roses to night revelers is an especially hard sight to swallow.

But Quito is a city I felt instantly comfortable and engaged in. At 2,850 meters altitude, it’s a dizzying but magical place.

Quito’s business, old town and southern areas.

On top of a hill, “El Panecillo” (the little bread loaf) features La Virgen de Quito, a spectacular view of the city, and frequent muggings.

Scenes from Quito Colonial.

	La Parque Amazonico La

God guarantees the trim—this barbershop was located on the first floor of El Convento de San Francisco.

This free, and popular, Quito museum (Centro Cultural Metropolitano) was housed in a former library. The featured exhibit was sculptures of bodies made out of chicken wire, with lights creating realistic shadows.

Overpasses near the bus station....Vegetable container, and makeshift cot.

The quietest soccer match you’ll ever see in Ecuador—at a school for the deaf.

Barrels used for trash and hair washing in a market in Quito—also good for a soccer game.

Scenes from Quito Colonial.

		La Parque Amazonico La

I passed by this once grand mansion everyday on the way to school....She and I both marveled at this phenomenon. Someone must have lived in this storehouse underneath an overpass, until it caught on fire.

The very beginnings of gringolandia, where the internet cafes span for blocks further.

Various Quito landscapes, and sunset over revolutionary Cuban thinker Jose Marti.

Face painting right before Quito’s Independence Day.