From Quito, we took a super-crowded city bus to the main bus terminal, during which people would shove themselves through the doors, then look at us and complain audibly about the size of our backpacks. We first took a bus to Latacunga, the capital city of the Cotopaxi region, where we debated about staying since it was already 8pm, but stuck with the original plan of getting to Tigua before the night's end. There were forty minutes to kill, so we walked across the street to the beacon of light/supermarket with all of our bags...the looks we got were pretty classic. Moving in? Supermarkets with more than 3 rows of food and carrying 3 or more brand names we recognize make us giddy little children! It's all about the simple things. After stocking up, we boarded a bus decked out in faux red leather and gold tassel window dressings and rode off into the night.
About an hour later, the wingman comes and taps us on the shoulder to let us know our stop is approaching. Before departing the station, Bea had written the name of two different hostels down on a piece of paper, which she'd shown the wingman. So, we gathered up our carry-ons and stepped off the bus...into BLACKNESS! Other than a very faint, blurry light in the distance, the only light was coming from the amazingly bright stars overhead. I'm pretty sure the only words out of my mouth were, "uhhh, YOU ARE NOT LEAVING US HERE - GET BACK ON THE BUS!" We positioned ourselves strategically - Hannah by the luggage, me by the luggage and bus door, and Bea went towards the faint light to ask the people inside if this was the right town. The entire time, the wingman was confirming that this was indeed the right town, the one on the paper she had shown him. Almost as soon as she reached the little house (one of three that we could see in the general area), she turned around and headed back towards the bus. Meanwhile, the indigenous people on the bus started protecting us and taking our side, screaming out the window, "you cannot leave them here....it is very dangerous!" One older indigenous woman even got out and escorted Bea to the house. I felt honored they would care at all, much less speak up on our behalf. Once Bea, who speaks Spanish fluently (thank goodness), got into a long conversation with the wingman, we watched that "lightbulb" moment move across his face. Apparently, one of hostel's names was also a "town" along the bus route, and the wingman assumed that was where we wanted to go! Relieved but still slightly concerned, we boarded the bus once again until TIGUA!
Once back on the bus, we shared a long, hesitant laugh about what had just happened. Bea then explained what happened when she approached the house. "There were three kids in bed with their mother and the bed was in the same room as the kitchen, and next door there was a...a, you know...where was Jesus born?" Responding simultaneously, Hannah guessed "a manger?" while I said hesitantly "Bethlehem?" Haha. Then, I had a somewhat out-of-body experience...one second we are laughing about the manger, and the next second, I'm staring at the golden tassels bouncing against the pitch black window, listening to the theme song from the "Grease" soundtrack play overhead, and slowly realizing that the bus driver's wife (who, out of concern, had come back to speak with us about our lodging situation) was saying we could stay in the guest room of her house in the town of "Macuchi." Whaaaat is going on?!? Umm...you really live in a town called "Macuchi?" Due to the fact I am a mature, culturally-aware traveler, I only laughed straight for five full minutes instead of ten ;-) I mean really, say it out loud and try not to laugh...that is all I am saying. Once we quieted down from that, Hannah and I (sitting in the two seats ahead of Bea) informed Bea that there was a guy behind her that appeared a little sketchy, leaning up onto her headrest and looking at the things in her seat. So, being the badass she is, Bea turned around immediately and in Spanish told the guy, "you better not even think about trying anything or I will poke your eyeballs out!" Blending in with our diplomatic relations is what we are all about! The look on that guy's face was, however, priceless.
Finally, the bus stopped at the actual town of Tigua. So once again, we gathered our belongings, stepped off the bus and realized it looked...the SAME! The only difference was that this time, the bus pulled away before we could protest. There were a handful more houses that were visible in the streetlamp's dull lighting and, in the not so far distance, we were able to identify the outlines of many stray dogs running directly towards us. We quickly decided to ascend a steep hill towards the other dull light we saw emerging from a home in the distance. Trying to climb a muddy and thin little trail up the side of a hill in the dark is actually more difficult than one would think. Once we made it, Bea tried to get anyone's attention from just outside the house - thankfully, she did! The gentleman she spoke with knew the owner of the hostel, so he sent his son to get the owner. The man that came down to meet us informed us he was indeed the owner of the FORMER hostel. Seeing as it was close to 11pm, our options were quite slim...and I'm pretty sure he read that all over our faces. He offered for us to stay in a spare bedroom they had in the upstairs of their home, because he either felt sorry for us or simply has a kind heart! We did the mandatory "oh, no, we couldn't possibly thing" in our heads for less than 2 seconds and jumped at the kind offer.
Tigua - all of it!
Toaquiza home from the outside, during daylight!
So, here we are in the middle of nowhere, hiking up a mountainside in complete darkness toward one bed in an "artist's getaway workroom." The father, Julio Toaquiza was the main local artist and owner of the town's art gallery. On the walls of the room were pictures of the well-travelled Julio in various countries, posters of his daughter - Sisa Toaquiza, a singer of folk and cumbia music, and other random posters, such as the Teletubbies and the former mayor dressed in drag. Yeah, don't really know what to say about that, other than the craziness of that room was phenomenal! After some conversation about the places he'd travelled and life in Tigua, he walked us a little further into the room to show us the maybe full-size bed. Without missing a beat, we all exclaimed "this is perfect!" Let's just say, for three grown women, it was a VERY snug fit. Once he left us to settle in and prepare for bed, we changed into our ridiculous long johns and warm hats that we'd purchased earlier that day - same design, different colors. We looked special for sure! Group trip to the restroom outside with the one headlamp - the wife liked the headlamps and used one to find her way back to the main house in the dark - where we did a bucket "flush" for the toilet and brushed teeth with dry toothbrushes. Being the last to pile into bed, I rounded the corner and saw Bea and Hannah sitting up, journaling and realized that bed already looked quite full. It was...tight. And so were our long johns! As we are about to close our eyes, Bea asks, "do you think there is Internet here?" :-) Rarely do I laugh to the point of crying, but the tears were just rolling down my face many times today! Classic!
This is the look we observed for the majority of the night!
Pillows for toddlers.
We awoke and began packing up, taking last looks around the room to appreciate it's awesomeness and the ridiculousness of the whole situation. On our way out, the women of the house offered us a warm breakfast! The three of us has the opportunity to discuss life in Andean Ecuador with them, which was both informative and humbling. I am unsure how or why where you are born can have a huge hand in the cards you are dealt in life - the challenges (daily here) and the opportunities that may or may not come one's way - but it does. Through our travels, however, we have been blessed to observe and meet those individuals who by no means are privileged - and yet, they are by far more happy and more aware of what truly matters in life - family, friends, food, and adaptation to one's situation - than most in "first-world" countries.
Timmy, the family dog that never left our side, even when we wanted him to!
View from directly outside the house.
After breakfast, Julio invited us to visit the art gallery, which was covered with similar paintings to those blueprints we'd seen in the room. We appreciated each painting to the soundtrack of his daughter, Sisa Toaquiza's first album. His other older daughter accompanied us to the gallery as well, and both father and sister were visibly proud when the first few notes BLARED through the stereo. We spoke a bit more, bought some small thread bracelets to commemorate the experience, and said our thank you's and goodbyes before RUNNING across the way and back to our bags in time to catch the approaching bus back to Latacunga. Obviously, we needed to regroup and maybe do more research about actual hostels along the Quilatoa Loop before trying again ;-) What an unexpectedly amazing experience! Thanks to the Toaquiza family for harboring three semi-unkempt backpackers who only wore faces of disbelief for the first hour that you met them! We are grateful!
For more about Julio's art: http://www.adventure-life.com/articles/ecuadorian-artists-39/
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