It just occurred to me that I don't have photos of the Spanish party, only videos. Downstairs from my apartment is this awesome shared space where leftist twenty-somethings congregate weekly to watch independent films, drink, make music and merry. Thinking that this was such a party, and, myself being leftist and open to all of these activities, I demanded they admit me. Only later did I find out it was a going-away party for a couple of Spaniards and that I wasn't quite welcome. So, instead of mixing, I stayed in the kitchen with Germania (above), Gabriella's birth mother and my adopted Ecuadorian mother. She fed me empanadas and stories, and all with love. The man-Spaniard, it turned out, was a professional musician and flamenco singer, and so to wrap up the party, he sang for all some tunes from his homeland, while women in the party took turns dancing flamenco. Germania and I were enraptured.
The following day, I went with my friend, Edison, Petra, and Gloria to some waterfalls 20 minutes outside Quito. The hobbit in me reveled in hiking barefoot across streams and through forests, as did the flu in me.
Farewell Germania, Rocio, Gabriella, Edison, Edison, Andy, Olufemi, Steve. Now my Ecuadorean adventures end, and begin my Barcelona adventures.
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