Banana Boats & Farris Wheels

The majority of our Carnaval vacation was spent being chased by children armed with all sorts of water weapons, relaxing in hammocks with good Spanish books, or diving under the waves. One day we were walking on the shore in Salango and a Banana Boat businessman caught our attention. He was very convincing so we decided that a banana boat tour around the little island of Salango was just what we needed. As we wrapped up in 1970s style life jackets, some of the local Ecuadorian boys spotted our gringa gang and decided they were down for a sweet banana boat adventure as well. After all the fourth of July Jaws marathons, I had pretty much renounced banana boats completely, but for Ecuador I made an exception. We mounted the slippery peel and shot past all the small vessels of cheering fisherman. When we went to make the first turn around the island the speed boat looped a wide j hook into a 90 degree turn and we all groaned as we watched the slack in the bungee begin to shorten. The best way to describe what happened next is if you were to cut the wrong way when backing a six horse trailer. We did a 180 split axle and needless to say the entire banana peeled out, leaving all of us bobbing oranges with rope burns. As the taunting mariners circled back around to pick us up we chanted, “Este no fue chistoso,” they just continued to roar. This action repeated several times as we rounded the island. On the home stretch the ecua chicos were trying to knock one of their friends off the banana, they slipped and three of them were lost at sea. The drivers didn’t feel like swinging around to pick them up so they tore out the throttle and we all ended up swimming back to shore.

We decided that the banana boat experience was the best 3 dollars we spent all day and to our good fortune we now have some very sweet friends from the small town of Salango awaiting our return; one of us even landed an eight year-old boy friend, Braine. After a day of blistering in the sun (50 SPF at a constant reapplication rate and ratio, still isn´t enough for the powerful equator sun), we got back to our country roots, and hit the carnival scene. The dollar we spent on a endless fairswheel ride was soon regreted when we noticed the ratty twine and patch work duck tape healing wounds that should have been soundly welded, but alas, the mezcla of children´s laughter, rushing waves, flashing lights, and side commentary was quite enoyable.

On our last day we tagged along with a small fishing crew for some real life Discovery Channel´s Deadliest Catch experience. We dropped a line and rocked back and forth on the queasy waves, waiting for something to bite. After a few minutes I pulled up a beautiful Yellowbanded Perch and another one of us caught a cute little speckled guy.

We regretably wanted to throw our tropical fish back, but Ronaldo, the pro, went right to work.


One of us was tugging on what we thought might be a tiburon (Shark), but as it turned out her line was just stuck on a rock. The we starting to feel a little sea sick from all the tossing, so we begged ¨Okay, ocean, if you could calm down just a little right now that would be just lovely.¨ Such a comment of course insighted a biblical reference, so there was a reply of, ¨Who do you think your are, J-E-S-U-S?¨ Obviously we couldn´t calm the storm and several of us ended up in bad shape. We laid on the beach and caught and friendly family rivalry game of soccer then hit the hammocks for some siesta time, which proved to be all we needed.

That night we dined Ecuadorian style with arroz, frijoles, patacones, pescado a la planca, and una ensalada de frutas. Our night bus trip home was slightly eventuful since all roads leading back to Quito were having reported desclaves (mudslides), but we made it safe and sound just in time to shower and start the 1 and 1-2 hour trek to class.

Under the mosquito net….

One thing you must remember as a traveler in Ecuador is that once you leave the Andes and head towards sea level, it is good to have all your vaccines. We giggled and watched pirated Disney movies from beneath the mosquito nets hanging in our beach cabana, which proved to be more entertaining than utilitarian, since our malaria medicine and bug spray had already armed us with an extra layer of protection. Through all our jesting, I couldn’t help but think of the children playing in the puddles of stagnant water in the muddy streets who had no protection of any sort. I thought of all the times I’ve raised funds for the Nothin’ but Nets Campaign with UMCOR (the United Methodist Committee on Relief) and with UNICEF (United Nations International Children’s Education Fund) and how, for me, malaria would be an uncomfortable three week inconvenience because I’m fortunate enough to have access to a La Hospital Metropoliana in Quito where I would also have insurance coverage. For the vast majority of people living on the coast or in el oriente in Ecuador, malaria could be a close call or devastating loss because many of the hospitals outside of the city are ill equip and those that have the means, value the reglas of bureaucracy far more than human life. But that’s the harsh reality isn’t it; people are dying in this world everyday from preventable diseases, while others are having cosmetic surgery. Both my Ecuadorian parents are surgeons and I see this as a struggle very close to their hearts. Mamí’s best friend just returned from Mumbai, India on medical mission. She’s a pediatrician which somehow makes her stories and her pictures even more soul shuddering. Needless to say, I have a newfound, very vivid perspective of the immense value of a simple mosquito net.