Running like a gallina with its head cut off...

This past week, I was invited to join two students (mid 50s, Marco and Dominga) and their family for a vacation. Knowing that they weren´t planning on taking no for an answer and not having too much better to do, I joined along. The plan was to head up North, about two hours from Ibarra, in a town called Lita, where Marco grew up. The trip was a five hour drive from Quito with brief stops in Otavalo and Ibarra. We left their house at the wee hour of 7AM and from there headed to meet up with their friend Martin, a German born Otavaleño, who prepared us breakfast and had an impressively extensive garden that separated his home from the others on the block. From there, we were back on the road and headed to Ibarra. On the way, we bought some fruit that is native to that area: chirimoya. It looks like a monster fruit, green with large wart-like bumps all over, but is quite possibly the sweetest fruit you´ll ever have. Definitely a treat! From there we visited San Antonio de Ibarra, an outskirt town of Ibarra that is famous for its woodcarvings. After a quick vuelta, we were back on the road and headed to our destination of Lita. The winding roads through the mountains left some gorgeous landscape views and were interrupted only by the 1,000 fritada and choclo restaurants that lined the streets.

When we finally arrived in Lita, it was everything you can imagine a small town in Ecuador being. Marco was like a star in the town as we walked through and went for a walk to get me acquainted to the town. Being with Marco was an added perk, because its Carnaval time and the water balloons were shielded by his fame that we didn´t get the typical showering of eggs, flour, water balloons and soap foam. After meeting some of the locals, we headed out for a hike. Along the hike, we stopped at one of the many rivers that pass through the town and stopped at the spot where you were technically in three provinces: Esmeraldas, Imbaburra, and Carchi. After sweating up a storm, (which was better than the rainstorms we´ve been having in Quito), we headed to the water for a quick swim that was amazingly freezing when we first arrived and by the end of our hour there was juuust right.

From there, Dominga said we should cook something special for dinner. I agreed but had no idea what I was agreeing to exactly. As we headed back to the house we were staying at, we stopped along the street and bought a chicken. A live chicken. Thinking nothing of it, I assumed it was for the grandfather and his farm or something like that. Never did it cross my mind that there was no great big grocery store around and that I would be in fact eating this little fellow in less than 4 hours. With a single meal, I may have been turned vegetarian. After the meal, we sat around with the abuelo and they told funny stories about the past and watched a movie. The next morning, I headed to catch my bus back to Quito and made a few stops along the way. With three bus transfers, I myself felt like a chicken with its head cut off.