'Cuz We're In The Cloud Forest

Picture this.

You’re at the Equator (the real one) in Ecuador, a small Spanish country in South America, going through the museum with a group of your fellow students from The Ohio State University while you’re on your way to a cloud forest for the weekend. A 55 to 60 year old man in a Panama hat stops you and says, “Wait. You guys are from Ohio State?”

How are you imagining this man? Is he some random gringo who can make the connection that a group with nearly everyone wearing OSU gear could be from Ohio State? Is he, God forbid, maize and blue scum from The School Up North? Or is he Tim Corral, the guy who donated so much money to the university that the Cardio Canyon in the RPAC bears his name, and he sat next to Dr. E. Gordon Gee in the President’s Suite at the Fiesta Bowl?

Now picture this.

It’s nighttime, in the middle of a huge, unfamiliar forest. There are eighteen kids sitting at the very top of a treehouse, sitting in a big circle, on beds, under covers, all listening with eager anticipation for the next words to be spoken. The only light is from a small flashlight shining on the speaker’s face. The speaker is telling ghost stories.

How old are these kids in your mind? Are they a bunch of fourth graders in a cheap treehouse in the woods who won’t sleep at all because they’re scared stiff after two hours of ghost tales? Or are they a bunch of college kids at various points in their twenties, sitting in the top floor of their tree-hotel in the cloud forest, hanging onto every word because they’re ready to burst out laughing at the next ridiculous translation, comment, or demon voice?

Now picture this.

You’ve gone out with your friends in the city of Quito on a nice Saturday night, and you all decide to go to a karaoke bar, although some go reluctantly. Your friend Andy Smith is with you. While he is squinting his eyes, trying to see the small TV on the other end of the bar that miraculously has the USA-Canada baseball game, someone in the group (let’s call her Lisa) says, “ANDY! I’ve got the perfect song for you!”

What do you think Andy does? Does he laugh at the thought of singing “Barbie World” by Aqua but follow it with a quick, “Uhhhh, NO”? Does he simply give a curt “No thanks,” because he hates “Stop In The Name Of Love” by the Supremes and maybe he didn’t even want to be in the karaoke bar in the first place? Or does he laugh and agree, and proceed to belt out “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred, complete with a cap tossing at the lyrics “too sexy for my hat”?

I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about these questions, but if you select the right answers (hint: the last ones), then you’ll get a good idea about my weekend. Our whole group was too big to go to Bella Vista (our lodge) at the same time, so there was a Friday/Saturday group and a Saturday/Sunday group, and I’m sure that there’s no possible way the second group could have as much fun as we did. Between the ghost stories, the guitar after midnight, and the general tomfoolery involved with the group, we had a great time.

Bella Vista itself is in what is called the cloud forest. It seems a lot like what a rainforest may seem like, but it’s in the mountainous region of the country, so it’s got to have a different name. However, it is still a beautiful jungle-like setting, with thicker trees and greener greens, but the difference is that there are, I don’t know, CLOUDS that roll into the mountains so thick that your visibility is limited in all directions. Along with a large cloud population, there are also roughly two million hummingbirds in the area, and I think I saw them all. The lodge has ten to fifteen hummingbird feeders set up around the property, and there is a constant stream of hummingbirds coming, going, and divebombing red things (leading us to the conclusion that hummingbirds are descended from bulls).


Psycho hummingbird. They look innocent, but they're not.


Clouds.... in the forest.














The penthouse of the treehouse.



In other news, I’ve decided that I will forego my incredible soccer talent and become really really bad at it, as a kind of protest that I am being forced to play and watch soccer in beautiful baseball weather while baseball season is about to start, and also to help me concentrate more on getting ready for some baseball games. The mental aspect of spring training is hugely important and vastly underrated, and if I continue to focus on things like soccer games, I will not be mentally prepared for the first pickup baseball game of the season. For all these reasons, I have decided that it is in my best interest to give up my title as “best soccer player on the planet.” My first game in this newly altered mental state came Thursday after school, when we all went to the park for a game. I have to say, I succeeded with flying colors; as goalie, someone actually threw the ball inbounds past me into the net. Of course, that was part of my plan; I knew all along that the ball had to touch someone for it to count as a goal. But the important thing was I didn’t react at all, giving me more time to think about how I would hit it if it were a baseball.

Also, I feel like it’s time for a concert update. I mentioned back in January that I would have the opportunity to see either the Iron Maiden Farewell Tour concert or a Carlos Santana concert while I am here in Quito. I have sad news for fans of both: Carlos Santana is performing this Saturday while we’re in the Galapagos Islands, and Iron Maiden tickets sold out a long, long time ago. Don’t even tell me I should skip the Galapagos for a Santana concert, and as for Iron Maiden, I’ve seen the throngs of Iron Maiden fans here in Quito and also the area around the concert venue, and they both scare the crap out of me. I’m sad to say I will not be attending any concert here in Quito (except the ones given by Dan “Trailblazer” Barwick and his magic fingers on our group trips).

Quick note: All you messed up Americans just switched to Daylight Savings Time. Quito did not. If you’re trying to call or chat with me at any point in the next two and a half weeks, know that I’m now an hour behind those of you in the Eastern US.

Cultural Note of the Day: You absolutely have to come to Ecuador at some point in your life, for one simple reason: ice cream. I’ve never had better flavors of ice cream in my life. Sure, there are creamier ice creams, or more chocolaty ice creams or ice creams that go better with caramel sauce. But the flavors here are probably the best in the world. They don’t really have flavors with artificial sugar like mint chocolate chip or butter pecan or cookie dough like we do, because they don’t really need to due to the wide array of delicious fruits that grow in this country. These fruits are turned directly into the best flavors ever. The best ice cream combination in the world, without a doubt, has to be raspberry-guanábana, followed directly by passion fruit-coconut. I don’t even LIKE coconut ice creams, but this stuff is incredible. Any other combination you would want would be third.

SHOUT-OUTS GO TO: Grandma and Grandpa Marlowe, Grandma and Granddad, and Grandpa and “Sarge” Lamont (Grandma, why did I have to travel to Ecuador to find out the kids at Revere called you that?)… and, of course, Horse.

From Ecuador,
Andy