Today, the exchange rate is nineteen pesos to a dollar.
Along the Hotel Zone strip, ATM’s, when they are working, dispense pesos or dollars. If you need money, you walk, bike, or drive to a little pitched roof shack on the main road not far from the Hemingway Eco Cottages.
At the bottom of the front barred window in the shack is a little slot through which the girl behind the window pushes me a small cardboard box just big enough for my dollars. I push the box back through the slot to her and wait. Inside, she has a calculator, a money box, a chair, papers and a pen balanced on her right ear. She counts out pesos, puts them in the cardboard box along with a printed receipt on top of the money, and slides the box back out to me.
The U.S. dollar is strong today so the exchange rate is nineteen to one. The weakest currency is the Canadian dollar. The strongest currencies are the British pound and the Euro. In this money game, the more pesos I get for my dollars, the cheaper vacation I get.
When the girl in the booth sees me, I get a bright smile from her.
I always leave her a tip and she hasn’t made one mistake.
Is handling money all day and not getting to keep any the same as walking in the desert with a canteen and not being able to drink
Sales receipts are prosaic.
On most there are times and dates, food ordered and its price, balances due and how the bill was paid. There is a spot for taxes and gratuities. There can be series of numbers indicating stock numbers of merchandise, re-order times, discounts, adjustments, credits.
On this restaurant receipt, at the bottom, is the phrase, ” Keep Tulum weird. ”
This is weird for a number of reasons. Weird, according to the Oxford dictionary, should really be spelled wierd to follow the rule – i before e except after c. Wierd has been spelled wrong so many years that both spellings are acceptable.Weird is also pronounced – wird, so we have a screwy English language where how a word sounds is not how it is spelled.
“Have a good day” is often at the bottom of sales tickets
” We appreciate your business is sometimes at the bottom of sales receipts.
In Tulum,” Keep Tulum Weird ” is totally acceptable.
The creator of this receipt is probably a seventy year old hippie living an an airstream trailer in a fenced off lot on the beach bought in the fifties for several thousand dollars. He would sell but can’t move because his cat, Mister T, likes to nap on an old couch under the airstream awning, on top of a Pittsburg Pirates World Series Blanket.
For all its weirdness, Tulum is becoming very comfortable.
Drones, as defined in middle school, were worker bees who served the Queen, built and maintained the hive, and lived a dronish life.
In high school, drone became a word describing people working in cubicles who did jobs the CEO hadn’t figured out how to eliminate.
Now, much older, drones are flying in my neighborhood, rumored to be delivering packages but mostly collecting data for the C.I.A and Deep State..
Original drones were for hobbyists who moved to them from model airplanes. Drones have flexibility. They can hover, do quick turns, are lightweight, easy to maneuver, and can go places planes can’t. In later incarnations, surveillance cameras were added, and, in warfare, missiles were mounted that could be triggered in Virginia to take out insurgents in Iraq.
These DJI Phantom’s are for sale in Best Buy, not any more expensive than a computer,or a nice camera lens,or big screen TV. In the right hands, drones take breathtaking videos around the world that you can see on You Tube.
The move to make machines to execute our desire for power, pleasure,spying and money intensifies.
Drones are now a reality we are going to be hearing more about, whether we want to, or not.
Technology, as we all know, has lots of plus, and lots of minus.
Farmers Markets are popular.
This market, on a Wednesday, opens at nine and features a smattering of produce, vendors selling chili rellenos and rice bowls, massage therapy in a chair, potions and ointments made from cactus and other desert plants, jewelry and yard ornaments,information on real estate and medical insurance.
This morning, happening at the same time and place as the market, is a Rincon Club Photo Session for the Geneology and Pickelball Clubs.
With over a thousand spaces in this park, there are lots of over 55 folks looking to while away spare time. There is a railroad club, metal shop, sewing and quilting hen house. There is ballroom dancing, square dancing, jewelry making, hiking, bird watching. There are clubs for golfers and bridge players and a poker room. You can spend your time in genealogy, archeology, mixology or any theology you like.
Vendors wait for business to pick up today. Many follow a circuit and this is one of many venues where they show their wares during the week.Yard ornaments are well priced with bright colors drawing people like bright flowers attracting pollinating insects.
” The peacock is very nice, ” I comment as an older woman walks gingerly on the grass past me to look at its price tag.
” i know, ” she says wistfully, ” but I’m on a fixed income. ”
This retirement paradise gives me a feeling of loss.
Watching a generation with experience and knowledge and wealth consigning themselves to walks and shuffleboard seems oddly wasteful.
Even old people can’t always afford what they want, or pay dearly for what they think they need.
I should have bought her the peacock but her husband wouldn’t have been too happy about it.
A trip to the grocery in a foreign country can be setting yourself up for shock treatment.
There are items in the grocery here that are less than what I pay at home, but many items are far more expensive.
In a country where the minimum wage for a working guy or girl is less than a U.S. dollar per hour, why would any sane person want to drink a six pack of beer at almost $10.00 U.S., or shave with Gillette shaving cream at eight dollars a can? On my most recent trip through the grocery gauntlet, my costs for a handful of items were $12.00 U.S.
For my money today, I buy two bars of soap, a link of sausage and a package of chicken cold cuts. I bring home an avocado,two boxes of saltine crackers, a small bag of apples, a bunch of bananas and a loaf of wheat bread.
Coming from Europe, or the U.S., or wealthy South American countries, Nicaragua is a bargain.
On the other hand, walking in a Nicaraguan’s shoes pinches your toes..
If I only make seventy or eighty cents an hour I would have to work two days to pay for what I just bought.
If you really need to know what a country and it’s people are about, peek into their shopping bags and watch what they ride to get home.
Panama hats have oddly enough always been made in Ecuador.
From the 1600’s, the weaving of hats out of the leaves of the toquilla palm has been done, at it’s finest level ,on the western coast of Ecuador.
These best hats are called Montecristo’s and are from the village of the same name in the province of Manabi. These hats are light colored, lightweight, breathable and have long been popular in hot climates where protection from the sun is essential . The price for Montecristos varies from hundreds of dollars to thousands.
It can take a skilled Ecuadorian craftsman up to six months to make one of these Panama hats. When you pick up a fine hat, it is light. You can roll it up in your suitcase and it returns to its shape when you take it out. The finer the weave the more expensive the hat.
President Theodore Roosevelt popularized the Panama hat when he wore one at the Panama Canal. A grandiose man, he was a President with an ego too large for whatever hat he was wearing.
It is said that a fine Panama hat will hold water and pass through a wedding ring when rolled up.
Machine made and cheap is the mantra of our times.
Turning men into machines and making machines do the work of men are themes of our day.
Chocolate is a money maker for Ecuador.
Karana is a Cuenca chocolate shop that uses only the best chocolate ( arriba) and makes their own delights in a kitchen in the back of their showroom.
This business is located at the intersection of Guayas and Pinchincha and this morning, Andres, the proprietor, is pleased to show Tom prepackaged boxes of fine chocolates. He also slides out trays of little gem like taste bombs from showcases to build Tom a personalized box of tastes he can take home to his Aunt Priscilla.
A nephew who brings you chocolates from Ecuador is a keeper and I can see Tom and his Aunt both digging into her gift package while listening to ” Saint Louis Blues ” on a vinyl recording pressed in the 1930’s by Satchmo as a light Seattle rain washes the kitchen windows.
Tom, visiting family in South America, played piano solos at the jazz club last night, and, by chance, I ran into him by the Cathedral and tag along on his chocolate mission to Karana’s.
Little adventures happen frequently in Cuenca,
Serendipity is a huge part of this city’s charm.
In the historical district are public mercados where vendors sell fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, and sundries from little stalls inside huge open buildings. There are modern groceries in Cuenca but visitors, and locals, like to shop in this old way.
On the square outside the Mercado are even smaller vendors selling religious artifacts, sunglasses, performing music, socializing, and today watching men change an electrical light on a next door building with a bucket crane.
Pigeons waddle in large groups on the plaza and lift into the air when little boys run through them with arms extended like airplane wings.
I have been told that bartering in Cuenca is the rule, instead of the exception.
It isn’t crowded this morning but women reach out to engage me as I walk down the aisles. They know if they get my attention, move me to look at their produce, I will buy something. The lady I buy the pineapple from, sells me, in quick succession, a papaya, a bunch of bananas, a bag of apples.
This trip to the market takes two hours.
Saving a few dollars on groceries may not be a good deal when I eat up 1- 12th of my day in the bargaining.
If you like strolling empty sidewalks with little traffic, and only a few walkers, seven in the morning is good in Cuenca, Ecuador.
It is a downhill jaunt from the end of Munoz Luis Cordero to the Parque Calderone. There are many General streets in this district but I remember Luis Cordero because at one end is Calle Munoz Vernaza, 3-46, where I reside for December 2015.
The Dorado panaderia I like to visit each morning is operated by the nearby El Dorado hotel and offers upscale breads and pastries, coffee and sandwiches. It has an upstairs where you eat or visit with friends and business associates, a clean bano on the bottom floor, modern decor, well presented baked goods.
One of the first things people ask me here is, ” Do you live here?, and, ” Do you like our city? ”
My standard answer is – “I don’t live here but I love your city.”
Even though Cuenca isn’t as big as Montevideo, it has a quarter million people nestled in between high Andes mountain ranges. It doesn’t spring from the indigenous jungle people like Costa Rica or Belize, or the cattle people of Uruguay, but from small, short stature, reserved people who live quietly in the high Andes and spend time growing crops on land that isn’t hospitable to farmers.
Cuenca is a city with a Spanish history rather than British, Catholic rather than Protestant. Ecuador shares more in common with Peru than Uruguay and more with Costa Rica than Belize.
If countries are determined by the traits of their indigenous peoples, Ecuador, and, by extension Cuenca, should reflect the mountain people of the Andes and it seems, to me, that this is true.
Geography does more to determine a countries character than all the books written about it.
Ecuador is now my fifth travel ring.
There is street food in San Pedro Town.
This little enterprise, ” La Taqueria “, opens at seven thirty each morning on Coconut Street where the road turns towards the Average Joe Bar and Caribbean Fuels gas station, and turns again past the S & P Hardware store to points south.
The taqueria’s, chicken or pork inside a small rolled corn tortilla, are three for a Belizian dollar. For six U.S. dollars you can buy fifteen and a drink and not have to eat the rest of the day.
On one of the stand’s windows is a business license and hot food is in slowly simmering pots. A short woman, with a fork, scoops meat out of a pot of your choice, spreads it on a tortilla, then rolls the tortilla and wraps them in foil for take out. You can have onions and a local hot sauce for no extra charge. Her husband sets up folding tables for dine in’s and puts money into a little metal cash box.
This morning I wait for a man ahead of me who orders twenty one.
Street food gets a bad rep. These kitchens are cleaner than some restaurants here plus you get to watch your meal being prepared.
Licking hot sauce off my fingers, that oozes out of the taqueria, as I bite, gives this trip panache.
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