I would like to extend my solemnest regrets that this blog has laid dormant for so long. Sorry to my avid reader (Hi mom).
The truth is that I have been really busy. This compounded with the fact that I felt like a latency period for reflection was in order.
I will start from the beginning. It was a few days after my last entry that I attempted to tackle the hardest physical challenge I have ever faced. The stage was perfectly set: The closest point to the sun on earth on the day when the sun was the closest to the earth. Mount Chimborazo´s Summit.
In the afternoon of the 20th of March, Brenden and I made the journey to the first refuge of Chimborazo, at 4800 meters. Since the morning, Brenden had been feeling rotten. He vomited multiple times throughout the day and his face had a color that I had never seen before in a human being. I was very preoccupied.
We were to begin our clime at approximately midnight. As I lie in my bed, watching my breath dissipate into the air above me, my stomach starts to churn. At first, I embrace the feeling because I assume that it is the altitude and this means that if Brenden is experiencing it as well, and not vomiting, he has surely overcome his grippe. As the departure time approaches, my ache gets worse and worse. At 11:35 pm, I can no longer maintain my illusion. I make my way outside into the dark moonscape that encompasses the refuge and vomit for about five minutes until my stomach is in a retched knot. 12:00 am. I have decide that despite my illness, there is no F´n way I am going to loose my payment with out a solid shot. As we start to walk, I begin to question myself. I am essentially bent double at this point and fighting back nausea.
Despite this, I just concentrate on following the footsteps in front of me. The rocks turn to snow and the snow to ice.
A strange thing happens to the human body when you remove it from the climactic equilibrium to which it is so accustomed. Altitude. Your hands and feet swell and tingle. Your respiration increases to a constant pant at rest. You body revolts. The mind functions at about 50% capacity. Some people say that it is like being drunk, but I have never felt so helpless in my life. The dizziness incapacitates. The delirium tries to steal what sense of reality you have left. The lack of coherent though makes you take risks that you otherwise never would. All of the comforts that are afforded by you natural internal balance of chemicals and metabolic processes are stripped of you when you need them the most.
We press on.
The darkness cloaks and laps at us when we are not looking. I move my head lamp every once and a while to try to fight it off. To my right and left are drop offs. The light provides just and five meter taste of the 200 more that lie beneath.
Every sound cuts through the air. We can hear the mountain taunt us with avalanches off in the distance. The thin air allows them to travel to our ears, un-muffled, uncensored from the placed of origin.
5500 meters - Each step burns. I struggle to lift one leg after another, supporting myself with my ice axe. My breathing intensifies to the point where during my brakes I cannot catch my breath. My eyes roll back in my head and I just lie there.
5600 meters -. I am essentially crawling; my arms don’t leave the ground for a second. I dare not or I will topple down.
5700 meters - I sit down to take a rest, and by an account from our guide pass out and go into a dreamy, euphoric state.
I have a moment of clarity in which I decide that I can go no further.
I rest for a few minutes and try to let it all sink in. We begin our decent. This is not as easy as I had hoped; in fact it is in some ways harder than the incline and takes much more concentration.
On the way down, Brenden´s crampons lock together and he falls onto a sharp rock. He is in a similar state to my own and does not realize the injury that he has suffered. Upon returning to the refuge, he pulls up his pant leg to reveal a cut on his shin about two inches wide to the bone. Hospital here we come.
I walk away from this experience with a valuable lesson. I can confidently say that Mount Chimborazo afforded me two of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Make it as far as I did and accept defeat.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
OA journal entry # 2
Hi everyone. Sorry for the delay but due to lightning and rain, the power was out at Casa Condor. Without further delay, Journal # 2.
The Equipment Arrives!
It was not an easy process by any stretch. The paper work could fill a small office. I can honestly say that this was the hardest bureaucratic process I have ever faced. After a painstaking journey, the soccer equipment has finally made it to Ecuador and Casa Condor.
We were awoken at about 3:30 am by Gavin and Roberto as they pounded on the door of C.C. their first words... "everyone up, weve got some work to do". After the 8 hour journey from Guayaquil, the truck driver decided that he was very uncomfortable about tackling the driveway to C.C.
This meant a bit of a hike to complete the journey. The truck´s lights met us as we rounded the last turn in the 150 meter driveway of C. C. In order to get our equipment to its next temporary resting place, we had to carry each individual box, one by one.
We completed this process at about 6 am. But its all here!
Another milestone worthy of mention. We had our first game on an OA field. We could not resist the opportunity to play a game before laying the field to rest for two weeks to allow the seed to grow on the field at Santa Isabelle.
We stepped over the threshold with a great feeling of satisfaction. With two teams kitted and
ready to go, it was Canada vs. Ecuador. Unfortunately the celebration had actually commenced the night before for the OA boys so we were all a little hurting. Despite our headaches, the game went well thanks to a few Ecuadorian ringers and the MVP: Brenden Smith, who was playing his second soccer game ever. The final score was seven to one for team OA and Im happy to say that I scored my first international goal. I was also unfairly reprimanded for a late tackle giving me my first yellow card.
We were awoken at about 3:30 am by Gavin and Roberto as they pounded on the door of C.C. their first words... "everyone up, weve got some work to do". After the 8 hour journey from Guayaquil, the truck driver decided that he was very uncomfortable about tackling the driveway to C.C.
This meant a bit of a hike to complete the journey. The truck´s lights met us as we rounded the last turn in the 150 meter driveway of C. C. In order to get our equipment to its next temporary resting place, we had to carry each individual box, one by one.
We completed this process at about 6 am. But its all here!
Another milestone worthy of mention. We had our first game on an OA field. We could not resist the opportunity to play a game before laying the field to rest for two weeks to allow the seed to grow on the field at Santa Isabelle.
We stepped over the threshold with a great feeling of satisfaction. With two teams kitted and
ready to go, it was Canada vs. Ecuador. Unfortunately the celebration had actually commenced the night before for the OA boys so we were all a little hurting. Despite our headaches, the game went well thanks to a few Ecuadorian ringers and the MVP: Brenden Smith, who was playing his second soccer game ever. The final score was seven to one for team OA and Im happy to say that I scored my first international goal. I was also unfairly reprimanded for a late tackle giving me my first yellow card.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Work Continues
Last Sunday, as no-one in Ecuador works on the day of rest, we had the chance to take the day off and indulge in one of the local attractions, the Devil´s Nose train ride. This is a 6 hour
trip that boasts some the most spectacular views in Ecuador. It descends the Andean mountain sides by completing multiple switchbacks. The appeal for us was the ability to sit on the top of the train as it raced through the countryside. Spectacular
Work at Santa Isabelle is moving at an encouraging rate. The fencing is complete and they are starting to till the field. We are now in the process of building two fields, the second located at a community called Guabug. The reception at Guabug has been very warm and the people are working incredibly hard (especially considering th
at a strong work ethic is not something that Ecuador is famous for). We hope to have the fields done by the 20th. So at the moment it is all about working our butts off pouring concrete, separating soil and stone and shovelling, shovelling, shovelling. At the end of the day it is back to Casa Condor where we work on the media front. The hard work is pure and liberating. I am quickly learning to deal with the the bureaucrats in a passive manner and focus on the result: a couple of fields done and ready to use. Although most of our association has been with the adults, it is still about the children. A simple plan. And as soon as the first kid steps on the field to play, I call it a success.
Worthy of note: I believe we have set a Gringo record for most days in a row with Guinea Pig consumed. I am in the process of contacting the Guinness Book...
trip that boasts some the most spectacular views in Ecuador. It descends the Andean mountain sides by completing multiple switchbacks. The appeal for us was the ability to sit on the top of the train as it raced through the countryside. SpectacularWork at Santa Isabelle is moving at an encouraging rate. The fencing is complete and they are starting to till the field. We are now in the process of building two fields, the second located at a community called Guabug. The reception at Guabug has been very warm and the people are working incredibly hard (especially considering th
at a strong work ethic is not something that Ecuador is famous for). We hope to have the fields done by the 20th. So at the moment it is all about working our butts off pouring concrete, separating soil and stone and shovelling, shovelling, shovelling. At the end of the day it is back to Casa Condor where we work on the media front. The hard work is pure and liberating. I am quickly learning to deal with the the bureaucrats in a passive manner and focus on the result: a couple of fields done and ready to use. Although most of our association has been with the adults, it is still about the children. A simple plan. And as soon as the first kid steps on the field to play, I call it a success.
Worthy of note: I believe we have set a Gringo record for most days in a row with Guinea Pig consumed. I am in the process of contacting the Guinness Book...
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Construction Begins
A short while ago, we set up a meeting with the presidents of the communities which we thought had the most potential for the construction of a soccer field. The meeting was set for nine am at Casa Condor. At 945 none of the leaders had arrived.
This was to be expected. Here is an insight into Ecuador's tardiness problem.
Arriving late is so prevalent in Ecuador that, in 2003, the community group Participacion Ciudadana embarked on a national tardiness campaign to stop tardiness. The group called on Ecuadorians to come together at noon on october 1 and do the unthinkable: synchronize their watches.
An estimated 57% of public events start late. Jefferson Perez, the countries only Olympic medalist, was enlisted to kick off the campaign. Perez did participate but arrived late.
Why all the fuss? Because according to Participacion Ciudadana, tardiness costs Ecuador some $724 million a year - no small change in a country with a GDP of 49.5 billion.
Our meeting kicked off at about 10 O’clock and went very smoothly.
Two days ago, we visited a community in which we could potentially build a field. As part of their welcoming meal, they served cheese that was made in the community. We were shown the area where the cheese was made. Milk is put into a part of the cow called the guajo (as best I can tell this is the rumen) and allowed to ferment. The product is some of the rawest, saltiest cheese you can imagine.
It has been a very difficult few days. The decision of where to build our field has not been an easy one.
There is a paradoxical issue here. The community that is most in need of a field is destined to fail in its acquisition. The problem is that once you dip below a line of poverty, a com
munity is unable to help themselves, let alone us. Unfortunately, we need a great deal of help in order to make this project a reality. One of the main necessities is equipment such as a tractor to help us till the field. This was not obtainable in some of the communities that we encountered. One of these communities was Calchi. Another problem with Calchi, was that they did not satisfy the enthusiasm criteria. They did not seem to appreciate what we were offering them. The elders did not think that they could get the people of the village together to work with us in the construction process. This alone might cause one to pass over a community in the selection process. The trouble we had with Calchi was that the kids were ecstatic, but the elders were not. The entire time we were in Calchi, we were surrounded by some of the dirtiest and happiest children I have seem in my time in Ecuador. It broke my heart.
Not too long after our visit to Calchi, I wondered if it was us who didn't appreciate what was happening there. Perhaps they were in need of so many things that they could not comprehend the meaning of a soccer field. I find this slightly hard to believe. I think that a place for their youth to grow and develop is something that every community should have.
We have chosen a place to build our first field. It is Santa Isabel. This is a
more inspiring story. We have visited their community multiple times. The children are beautiful and the elders enthusiastic. We told them that we were interested in helping them build a field. The next morning we arrived piled in the back of a truck as usual. The sight that met us, as we pulled onto the dirt area that is to be our field, was a powerful one. All the women of the community were walking down the mountain side towards us. On their backs they carried bags of gravel to be used to make concrete.
They have formed a “Minga”, which is a Quechua word that means to work together for the greater good of the community. Every day there is 50 people helping make concrete, digging up the soil to lengthen the field or making lunch for everyone.
We have almost completing sinking the poles for the 2 meter high fence
that will surround the field. After that we start the seeding.
Most of you have probably seen it but we have posted a Youtube video on our webpage. Im working on the technology of embedding but for now…
This was to be expected. Here is an insight into Ecuador's tardiness problem.
Arriving late is so prevalent in Ecuador that, in 2003, the community group Participacion Ciudadana embarked on a national tardiness campaign to stop tardiness. The group called on Ecuadorians to come together at noon on october 1 and do the unthinkable: synchronize their watches.
An estimated 57% of public events start late. Jefferson Perez, the countries only Olympic medalist, was enlisted to kick off the campaign. Perez did participate but arrived late.
Why all the fuss? Because according to Participacion Ciudadana, tardiness costs Ecuador some $724 million a year - no small change in a country with a GDP of 49.5 billion.
Our meeting kicked off at about 10 O’clock and went very smoothly.
Two days ago, we visited a community in which we could potentially build a field. As part of their welcoming meal, they served cheese that was made in the community. We were shown the area where the cheese was made. Milk is put into a part of the cow called the guajo (as best I can tell this is the rumen) and allowed to ferment. The product is some of the rawest, saltiest cheese you can imagine.
It has been a very difficult few days. The decision of where to build our field has not been an easy one.
There is a paradoxical issue here. The community that is most in need of a field is destined to fail in its acquisition. The problem is that once you dip below a line of poverty, a com
munity is unable to help themselves, let alone us. Unfortunately, we need a great deal of help in order to make this project a reality. One of the main necessities is equipment such as a tractor to help us till the field. This was not obtainable in some of the communities that we encountered. One of these communities was Calchi. Another problem with Calchi, was that they did not satisfy the enthusiasm criteria. They did not seem to appreciate what we were offering them. The elders did not think that they could get the people of the village together to work with us in the construction process. This alone might cause one to pass over a community in the selection process. The trouble we had with Calchi was that the kids were ecstatic, but the elders were not. The entire time we were in Calchi, we were surrounded by some of the dirtiest and happiest children I have seem in my time in Ecuador. It broke my heart.Not too long after our visit to Calchi, I wondered if it was us who didn't appreciate what was happening there. Perhaps they were in need of so many things that they could not comprehend the meaning of a soccer field. I find this slightly hard to believe. I think that a place for their youth to grow and develop is something that every community should have.
We have chosen a place to build our first field. It is Santa Isabel. This is a
more inspiring story. We have visited their community multiple times. The children are beautiful and the elders enthusiastic. We told them that we were interested in helping them build a field. The next morning we arrived piled in the back of a truck as usual. The sight that met us, as we pulled onto the dirt area that is to be our field, was a powerful one. All the women of the community were walking down the mountain side towards us. On their backs they carried bags of gravel to be used to make concrete.They have formed a “Minga”, which is a Quechua word that means to work together for the greater good of the community. Every day there is 50 people helping make concrete, digging up the soil to lengthen the field or making lunch for everyone.
We have almost completing sinking the poles for the 2 meter high fence
that will surround the field. After that we start the seeding.Most of you have probably seen it but we have posted a Youtube video on our webpage. Im working on the technology of embedding but for now…
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
A visit to the villages around Chimborazo
We spent today driving around with Antonio. As the guys (Pike, Dunc and Sergio) have arrived a few of us had to ride in the 
back of the truck. This number increased and decreased as we picked up and dropped off locals in the different villages that we visited. As we went from town to town we were routinely offered to join in on lunch. At around 1:00 we were getting quite hungry so we decided to take the president of a community up on his offer. We all piled out of the truck and were led into a dark room. We were met by the elders of the village who had just sat down to eat. More chairs were brought in and we were seated. The meal started with the standard “Caldo” (broth usually with chicken). As the main course came, we all looked at eac
h other hoping for a clue about what we were looking at. Roberto politely asked what we had been served. I heard the word, ”Cuy” and immediately recognized it. Named for the sound it makes when it is skewered. Guinea pig! It was actually quite tasty; kind of like chicken only a little more chewy (and of course much smaller).
We saw at least ten different fields that we could potentially repair or rebuild. All of them need a lot of work. Now we have to work out what is possible with the finances and time we have.
We arrived home after a ten hour day, tired dirty and full from our 3 lunches.
back of the truck. This number increased and decreased as we picked up and dropped off locals in the different villages that we visited. As we went from town to town we were routinely offered to join in on lunch. At around 1:00 we were getting quite hungry so we decided to take the president of a community up on his offer. We all piled out of the truck and were led into a dark room. We were met by the elders of the village who had just sat down to eat. More chairs were brought in and we were seated. The meal started with the standard “Caldo” (broth usually with chicken). As the main course came, we all looked at eac
h other hoping for a clue about what we were looking at. Roberto politely asked what we had been served. I heard the word, ”Cuy” and immediately recognized it. Named for the sound it makes when it is skewered. Guinea pig! It was actually quite tasty; kind of like chicken only a little more chewy (and of course much smaller).We saw at least ten different fields that we could potentially repair or rebuild. All of them need a lot of work. Now we have to work out what is possible with the finances and time we have.
We arrived home after a ten hour day, tired dirty and full from our 3 lunches.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Guayaquil and Carnival
We spent our second and third night in Casa Condor trying to adjust to the new living conditions and the altitude (made some cool discoveries: 1) you can put your hand in boiling water and it doesn’t burn 2) you can essentially whisper and people can hear you up to 30 feet away). Each day we made the 45 min trip to the closest public phone in Riobamba. On the second of these trips we made contact with Jorge Gil, our customs broker in Guayaquil. He informed us that we would in fact receive authorization to ship, but not until 12:00 noon on the day of depa
rture. Because it was Friday afternoon, we had no way of determining whether or not our shipment would leave before or after noon. We decided that we needed to make the trek to Guayaquil, the location of the customs office, in case the shipment was going to depart before noon and we had to do damage control. We arrived in the evening on Sunday. After a search of about 10 local hotels, many of which could be rented by the hour and had broken mirrors behind the beds with TVs tuned to pornography channels, we found a decent hotel for a bout five bucks a night. In the morning, we discerned that the shipment would leave at 6:00 pm that day and we were in the clear to receive our authorization to ship.
Since we had some time to kill before the project started, we decided to head to a beach town about 6 hours away called Montenita. It was at this point that things took a turn for the worse. We were walking through one of the shady parts of town (funnily enough the street that our hotel was on), and Gavin fell a little behind. As he was walking, he was approached by an elderly gentleman who pointed out that his bag was covered in what looked like a brown sludge or caramel. The man kindly offered him some napkins to clean himself off. As Gav was doing this, the man said that he was going to go and get him something more to clean off with. The next thing he knew, the man was gone and so was his day pack containing his passport, digital camera and many more personal effects. This set-back required a few more days in Guayaquil. The experience of trying to replace his passport gave us valuable insights into why things move so slowly in Ecuador. The main police station in Guayaquil still uses predominantly non-electrical type writers. The men using them have gnarled hands from years of hammering the keys to get them to make a legible mark. The Canadian embassy is open from 9:30 to 12:45. In the notary office we were confronted by people vying for position to beg the lawyer to sign their document.
In the end it was all sorted out and we caught a bus back to Riobamba. Half-way there, the bus was confronted with a large line of vehicles at a stand still. We were told that there was construction going on and the road would be closed of at least and hour and a half (this meant at least two and a half). About 2 hours into our wait, Gavin and I decided to go and try and find one of the vendors we had seen selling fried potatoes and plantains. As we got about 100 yards away from the bus we heard the roar of engines starting up. "Oh fuck, their leaving!" We start to run u the steep hill to try to catch our bus. As we get closer, we see that the bus is long gone. A truck driver who realizes what has happened yells something to us and gestures for us to climb on the running board. We jump on and he hits the accelerator in an attempt to catch our run-away transportation. Dust blinds us and chokes us as the trucks passes vehicles in an attempt to catch the bus. Luckily for us Roberto, after an extensive argument, has convinced the driver to stop despite his claims that he is already to far behind schedule. We caught up with the bus about 500 yards down the road and continued our journey to Riobamba.
The day after we arrived, Carnival began in all of Ecuador. This is essentially a national water fight. Anyone is fair game and there is no mercy. Unfortunately it doesn't stop with water; every second person has a can of spray foam, eggs, or flower. If you find yourself anywhere in Ecuador during this event you have about a 100% chance of getting hit at least once. People throw water balloons from second story buildings. Others hide in stores with buckets of water waiting for you to pass by. Others still sit in the beds of trucks and roam the streets looking for victims. Once, I saw a bus driver stop at a light and run out of his bus with a bucket of water to hit an unsuspecting woman crossing the street. Carnival in San Pablo begins with a traditional dance competition between all of the local communities. Roberto was selected as one of the judges for this very important event. The prize: a fat, healthy sheep. The people would do anything to try to attain this prestigious award, including offer Roberto a live chicken as an incentive.
The alcohol ran freely. At one point I was approached by a woman with a large plastic container who was serving a liquid out of coconut shells. I take my turn. It burns my throat but is very sweet. "Que es esto?" I ask. "Chicha" She replies with a toothless grin. I am truly glad I asked after taking my turn. Chicha is a drink made by the elderly women in the community by chewing the Yuca root and spitting the sugary saliva into a bucket. The liquid is then left outside to ferment, producing alcohol.
rture. Because it was Friday afternoon, we had no way of determining whether or not our shipment would leave before or after noon. We decided that we needed to make the trek to Guayaquil, the location of the customs office, in case the shipment was going to depart before noon and we had to do damage control. We arrived in the evening on Sunday. After a search of about 10 local hotels, many of which could be rented by the hour and had broken mirrors behind the beds with TVs tuned to pornography channels, we found a decent hotel for a bout five bucks a night. In the morning, we discerned that the shipment would leave at 6:00 pm that day and we were in the clear to receive our authorization to ship.Since we had some time to kill before the project started, we decided to head to a beach town about 6 hours away called Montenita. It was at this point that things took a turn for the worse. We were walking through one of the shady parts of town (funnily enough the street that our hotel was on), and Gavin fell a little behind. As he was walking, he was approached by an elderly gentleman who pointed out that his bag was covered in what looked like a brown sludge or caramel. The man kindly offered him some napkins to clean himself off. As Gav was doing this, the man said that he was going to go and get him something more to clean off with. The next thing he knew, the man was gone and so was his day pack containing his passport, digital camera and many more personal effects. This set-back required a few more days in Guayaquil. The experience of trying to replace his passport gave us valuable insights into why things move so slowly in Ecuador. The main police station in Guayaquil still uses predominantly non-electrical type writers. The men using them have gnarled hands from years of hammering the keys to get them to make a legible mark. The Canadian embassy is open from 9:30 to 12:45. In the notary office we were confronted by people vying for position to beg the lawyer to sign their document.
In the end it was all sorted out and we caught a bus back to Riobamba. Half-way there, the bus was confronted with a large line of vehicles at a stand still. We were told that there was construction going on and the road would be closed of at least and hour and a half (this meant at least two and a half). About 2 hours into our wait, Gavin and I decided to go and try and find one of the vendors we had seen selling fried potatoes and plantains. As we got about 100 yards away from the bus we heard the roar of engines starting up. "Oh fuck, their leaving!" We start to run u the steep hill to try to catch our bus. As we get closer, we see that the bus is long gone. A truck driver who realizes what has happened yells something to us and gestures for us to climb on the running board. We jump on and he hits the accelerator in an attempt to catch our run-away transportation. Dust blinds us and chokes us as the trucks passes vehicles in an attempt to catch the bus. Luckily for us Roberto, after an extensive argument, has convinced the driver to stop despite his claims that he is already to far behind schedule. We caught up with the bus about 500 yards down the road and continued our journey to Riobamba.
The day after we arrived, Carnival began in all of Ecuador. This is essentially a national water fight. Anyone is fair game and there is no mercy. Unfortunately it doesn't stop with water; every second person has a can of spray foam, eggs, or flower. If you find yourself anywhere in Ecuador during this event you have about a 100% chance of getting hit at least once. People throw water balloons from second story buildings. Others hide in stores with buckets of water waiting for you to pass by. Others still sit in the beds of trucks and roam the streets looking for victims. Once, I saw a bus driver stop at a light and run out of his bus with a bucket of water to hit an unsuspecting woman crossing the street. Carnival in San Pablo begins with a traditional dance competition between all of the local communities. Roberto was selected as one of the judges for this very important event. The prize: a fat, healthy sheep. The people would do anything to try to attain this prestigious award, including offer Roberto a live chicken as an incentive.
The alcohol ran freely. At one point I was approached by a woman with a large plastic container who was serving a liquid out of coconut shells. I take my turn. It burns my throat but is very sweet. "Que es esto?" I ask. "Chicha" She replies with a toothless grin. I am truly glad I asked after taking my turn. Chicha is a drink made by the elderly women in the community by chewing the Yuca root and spitting the sugary saliva into a bucket. The liquid is then left outside to ferment, producing alcohol.
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