Wednesday, April 5, 2006

I have always wanted to visit the Equator. The Equator! So cool. And that was the plan for today. We ran into Sam and Sepi on our way to breakfast and invited them to come with us. They accepted, and after breakfast we went over to their hostel. When we got there, Sepi had decided to stick with her original plan, a day of relaxing after all their mountain climbing. But Sam was still coming, and their friends Brandon and Lisa, down from the US on a six week trip, agreed to come with us.

The Lonely Planet said there are pink busses marked "Mitad del Mundo" that go directly to the site. Well, we couldn't find any of those. The woman in the change booth at the trolley stop acted as though pink busses were the craziest thing she'd ever heard of. So we got on a trolley with instructions on where to transfer. We saw no pink busses anywhere along the route.

At the transfer point, which was within a trolley station, we accidentally cut to the head of the line. Well, the others accicentally cut. I saw the "line forms here" sign and the line behind it and knew we were doing wrong, but my little-soft-maybe-voice gets lost when I'm with a big group. In fact, the number and loudness of the words I speak decreases in direct proportion to the number of people present. (Michael calls me his secret treasure.) There were four besides me and I knew I'd never be able to halt our progress, so I just went with the flow.

But it worked out for the best. At the head of the line the rest of our group realized what we'd done, but the narrow trolley stop was packed and going back would have been quite a job. The conductor just handed us our little green "Transhemisfericos" tickets and waved us on board, the better to get us out of his way, probably. This did not sit well with one particular woman. As the last one of us on the bus, I got to hear most of her angry little speech about how there was a line and how people not waiting in it is not good.

I felt a bit bad for her because the conductor was very "yeah, yeah, whatever, lady" about her concerns, when really she was right. But man... after all the times of being first in line and last on the bus, all the times of waiting in line and having the number of people in front of us grow faster than the number of people behind us, all the times we've politely stood back at the bakery only to have other people barge in and get served first... So one time in our trip we cut the line - unintentionally on everyone else's part but mine - and got on the bus before other people. That lady can just shut up and deal with it.

The bus was crowded. Due to our cheeky line-cutting, we all had seats. (As did the complaining woman.) But the aisles were full of passengers constantly being stirred and rearranged by the guy selling tubes of frozen yogurt and the ayudante collecting fares. I gave up my seat to an old woman. Michael said I was a good person, but I'm not. Oh sure, I'm an okay person and all that but that's not why that old woman got a seat.

The truth is, I was in the aisle seat and she sat on me. Just suddenly there was someone sitting on my arm and leaning on my shoulder. I looked up and there she was, looking impossibly old. Like, "what was it like babysitting Methuselah" old. So what could I do but get up? She would have been in my lap next. Her young companion smiled approvingly at me and murmured something about her being a "viejacita," which I guess means "manipulative little old lady."

In all seriousness, I didn't mind giving up my seat at all, but I was a bit bummed to be missing out on the incredible mountain views Quito's outskirts had to offer. But after some time a woman who was getting off picked me to inherit her seat, and then later there was a complicated game of musical chairs that ended up with me sitting next to Michael again and the old woman sitting next to her young friend.

After about an hour all together we got to Mitad del Mundo, which means Middle of the World. Here's the thing about the official equator site: it's not on the real equator. It was calculated way back in the day and they're off by about 150 meters. Which they don't tell you. So you pay $1.50 to get into the site and hop back and forth between hemispheres, but you're really just hopping back and forth over a meaningless yellow line. The monument is very nice, but you might as well just paint a line down the sidewalk in front of your house.

The real equator, calculated by GPS, can be found at the Inti Ñan Solar Museum. Obviously the equator goes around the entire world, but the museum is where you need to go if you are in Ecuador and you want to jump back and forth over a line that actually means something. Which I did, very much. But first we had lunch at the fake equator. It's quite a site they have there, like Disneyland, full of little exhibits and restaurants and souvenir shops, all designed to look as charming as possible.

Lisa said she didn't like being in touristy spots like that, but I love it. Like I mentioned in my Teotihuacan entry, the penned off tourist zones are where you can relax for a couple of hours. In regular cities and towns I'm always going to stand out as a foreigner, but I still need to try to fit in and do things the local way, speak correct Spanish, use correct manners, ride the bus properly. For the most part I like it; it's part of the fun of traveling. But it's still an effort, and at a tourist attraction I can just relax and feel free, like a little kid. "Yay, let's jump over the equator!" and things like that. Everyone else is excited too, even the locals.

Lunch was "overpriced" at $1.95 for the set meal without soup, but it was pretty decent food and also we were really truly at the fake equator, which made everything tastier.

Afterwards we went to the museum to see the real equator and balance an egg on a nail. Our two-year-old guidebook had the price listed as $1, but it's since gone up to $2. Lisa and Brandon felt this was out of their budget, so they waited outside the gate while Sam, Michael and I went in.

What we got was a tour of the kitschiest little museum ever. Except for something like the Smithsonian, which is amazing and free, this is the most value-for-money museum I've ever been to. The museum requires you to have a guide, whose services are included in the entrance fee.The three of us had an English-speaking guide named Paty all to ourselves.

Before I left my job at RBC, George, who is strikingly handsome, and I tried to find out if there's any truth to the rumor that toilets flush counterclockwise on one side of the equator and clockwise on the other (the Coriolis effect). We found all sorts of conflicting reports. Well, you're supposed to be able to find out once and for all at Inti Ñan.

They have a little portable sink for the purpose and Paty drained it for us three times. Once exactly on the equator, where the water went straight down, and once each a few feet to either side of it. She had some tiny leaves in the water to help guide our eyes. It kind of looked like the water was spiraling counterclockwise in the northern hemisphere and clockwise in the southern as she claimed, but I'm not entirely convinced. It didn't spiral much at all, really. Still, it was cool. It wasn't a toilet, but it was cool. (The drained water was caught in a bucket and reused.)

Then we got to try to balance an egg on the head of a nail. Paty went first. It took her a bit longer than it probably should have, and she broke the first egg and had to get a replacement, but she eventually did it. Then she told us that if we could do it, we'd get a certificate. She had my number - I love certificates. But I couldn't do it. At first I was moving too fast, and Paty told me to slow down and "feel the power." I slowed down and saw that it was easier. I even almost had it for a second, I could feel it. But in the end I couldn't do it. Sam couldn't do it either.

But Michael successfully balanced the egg! He is so talented. I e-mailed my grandfather about it later on and he wrote back, "I'm not surprised Michael balanced the egg. He's good at doing things." Which pretty much sums it all up.

Then there were some Mystery Spot type activities where Paty attempted to prove to us that we had less strength on the equator than off of it. I'm not sure I believe it completely, but it was lots of fun.

Paty kept calling me Lady. As in, "Now you try, Lady." I wished she wouldn't. Not being acquainted with any Peers of Europe, when I hear "lady" I think, "Hey, Lady, whyncha learn to drive?" or similar. Probably I should have just told her my name, but then I'd get the whole, "Miguel? Miriam? Medium?" thing and I can't quite bring myself to give a name, or even a nickname, that's not really mine.

The rest of the museum was exhibits of indigenous life and the animals of the area. We saw a giant preserved tarantula in a glass box, which Michael helpfully kept putting closer to my face to make sure I could see it properly, and huge snakes and insects. We got to walk around in a replica of an indigenous home and also see a bunch of guinea pigs, which are eaten in Ecuador. They're called "cuy" because of the sound they make. We also got to try out a blowgun with cocktail skewers in it instead of poisoned darts. We all managed to hit the target, a large cactus leaf, but there was no certificate for that. And why not, I'd like to know?? We also saw a real shrunken head and learned how they're made.

At one point, Sam asked Paty where the baños were and she told him. When I finished what I was doing and went to ask her the same thing, I thought I'd change it up a little since she'd obviously just directed Sam to the men's room, and ask her where the women's room was. So I approached her and asked, "Y las damas?" and she pointed me around the corner where I found... the llamas.

I tried really hard not to laugh and laugh, because I didn't want her to think I was laughing at her, but... I asked for the bathroom and she showed me to a pen of llamas... damas, llamas, it was too much for me. So, yeah, there were llamas at the museum too, and also ducks.

It took about an hour to go through the museum, including collecting Michael's egg-balancing certificate, which was officially stamped and signed by Paty and a witness (me). Seriously, this was the best two dollar museum I've ever seen, and I strongly advice you not to miss it. If your budget is tight, skip the fake equator.

The bus ride back was direct but interminable. We really took the scenic route. And we were eventually dropped of at some random spot which was not where we'd started out. But we managed to find our way back to the Mariscal, where Michael and I split off from the group go have dinner at an Arabic place we've been eyeing.

I've been craving hummus like crazy, and here was my chance. I was afraid it wouldn't be right, but it was so right and so delicious that I decided to order baba ganoush as well. I couldn't remember what they'd called it on the menu though. I tried asking the waiter for baba ganoush, but he had no idea what I was talking about, so I asked for "comida de berenjena" ("eggplant food") and then he understood and brought it to me and it too was delicious.

So today we got to see the equator and have one of the remaining international foods I've missed. A very, very good day. Which is satisfying, because we're leaving tomorrow for Baños. Which we're assuming is a town and not a pen of llamas.

 

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Mitad del Mundo: The monument at the fake equator.

Lisa, Brandon, Sam at the fake equator.

Entrance to Inti Nan Solar Museum, home of the real equator.

Sam, Michael and me at the real equator. Photo taken by Paty.

Paty spins a globe as part of the Coriolis effect demonstration.

My unsuccessful attempt to balance an egg on a nail.

Michael is good at doing things.

How to make a shrunken head. Inti Nan museum, Ecuador.

Shrunken head (finished product), Inti Nan museum, Ecuador.

Michael tries out the blowgun. Photo by me.

I have a fondness for random explanatory plaques. Inti Nan museum, Ecuador.