I thank the blessed entropy (not my phrase, her's) that got me here, and the wing-flaps extending that got me to stop. Flying over the valley, I thought of Saskia's feeling that Kenya was part of the earth as a woman's body. If I were to force that metaphor, I think Quito would be the thumbprint. Jagged, green and smoothed but harsh faults and mesas from a chemical erupbtions under the skin. Flying over, circling the city, I felt the thrum of joy as I reconized the Rio Chicha, the Parque Metropolitano, and the curves and nadirs that make up the outskirt suburbs. We swooped so low that I could see the cars of Avenia Naciones Unidas, see a bullfighter practicing with his red cloth in the taurion stadium (I am not making this up), Jamie and Scott's apartment building, the Unicorn statue I'd shoot past in pre-dawn taxi rides. Everything I see remindes me of some silly K joke. Those really funny videos of pratfalls and pranks we watched on the way to the galapagos? They are called Just for Laughs, they are produced in Montreal, and they are available on the back-of-the-seat LAN tvs. The shuttle we sat on for like 45 minutes that one time? Tourists are still trapped there. That rediculous hamburger stand? Still hilarious. I'll have to get his under control.
I am here, I am safe. I can still speak Spanish and people understand me and do not laugh at me. This feels so good. I got to get a taxi, remember street names. I got to greet my grandmother. They asked how my family was doing, asked by name. Asked if "my mother was still a psychologist" which isn't really a transient state but is still really nice. Illidan, who was like a 4 month old baby when I first met him, is a year old and in that stage where he just wants to walk around holding other peoples hands and throwing balls under the table.
I called Pilar at the airport, million pounds of baggage on my back. The phone call cost 30 cents. Took a taxi to abuelas house- 6 dollars. Ecuadooooor, and the financial situation is easy. Abuela gave me cafecito and stale bread and delicious butter. I was offered ancient, sweating cheese handmade by an aquaintance. The best way to avoid this is to pretend you don't see the cheese and that the person offeirng it to you is just talking about cheese in the abstract. We got a ride through gridlock traffic from Aunt Monica. Luckily, we made ourselves a third lane (baby Ili on a lap in the front seat) and made it home fast.
The baby is staying with Pilar while Santi is in the hospital, sometimes Benja, the 8 year old, does too. He's scared without his mom who has super attachment parenting parented him. He misses "la teta" and thinks the bottle is a poor substitute. But he liked being naked without his diaper, and liked playing with his little penis and laughing at his own body. We updated each other on gossip. i gave her the thrift store shirts (this is more awesome than it sounds) and I think she liked them. Ecuadorian gift giving is something I'm really bad at. I just didn't want to give her them in front of people. Oh SNAP I forgot a hostess gift for my dueños. But! I have been assured that the dueños are awesome, non creepy people. It's a mom and a dad and I'm meeting her in the Supermaxi parking lot of Cumbaya tomorrow at 9. Hallelulaja! Everything worked out just as well as it could have. And I think I'll be asleep by 8:30.
It is such a cool feeling to return to a place. It's very strange to have the memories still be fresh but stored in long term memory. I walk into the kitchen and feel that it's morning, I need to make breakfast but at the same time awash with how things have changes slightly. But the conditioning is still there. the house has a water filter with two switches you turn to get the clean water. It's run by electricty and the circuit was making it electrocute you when you switched it on for like two months. I've still got my Pavlovian fear of the switches.
Here I am. I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I'm writing so much. I can't believe it. I never thought I;d really come back. I never thought my spanish would stay, that people would recognize me, that I'd rememmber words and pictures. But I did! It was worth it, i think, just to be able to listen to someone listen to the radio. I'm not writing very coherently, this won't go n the blog. i am so happy to be back in this big bed. It's very odd, because what was familiar about the bed was it's not-my-bedness and now this same unfamiliar bed is what I feel a connection to. Has the subject become the object? Have the colonized become the emperors? Has my graphomania continued unabated? Is it getting hot in here or do I just have a QUITO FEVER!!!
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