Trekking the Andes; generations of tradition ~ visits to a quaint family farm, Ancient Inca ruins and a resort tucked in the hills.

It was to be an exciting 10 month adventure when we sent our 16 year-old son to Ecuador to live for his junior year in high school; God alone knew the future and that it would begin a life-time relationship.  Cesar returned with Matthew the following year, and our Ecuadorian host became our Ecuadorian son. 

All these years later the Burbano Family has embraced Neal and me into the fold of their warm and extensive family.  Visiting their family farm and retreat center, Finca de Dorita, gave us a heart-warming glimps into a century of family love and tradition, and a taste of what Matthew came to love over 27 years ago!

Amazing to me that a large family gathering (and this was only a small portion of the maternal side of the clan!) could find so much to do WITHOUT internet ... hmmm!

Children actually PLAYED with each other and with adults, and the latter enjoyed plenty of animated conversation!












Of course it was the intrepid Abuelitas who were the adventurous ones, traversing the steep terrain of this magnificent Andes Mountains family farm.

Sherri, Dora Burbano, in front of Denise (son-in-law Luis's Mom),
sister-in-law Anita and sister Mary.  What a delightful time we had!  I'd hike with these gals anywhere.

November 2 was Dia de los Muertos               

GuaGua Pan - to resemble a swaddled baby

and GuaGua Pan is a traditional
sweetbread, served with Colata Morada.

The celebration, including Cuenca's
Independence from Spain, spanned
the weekend.

Colada Morada

 The food, prepared and served by loving hands, prooved a delicious feast.  The variety of meats were cooked by los Abuelos over a built-in BBQ in the detached dining hall.

Uncle Oscar combined old with new - carbon-initiated
charcoal, and when the straw hand-held fan was too slow
and electric hair blower worked nicely.

Artist Cesar Burbano Sr. painted a realistic-looking flame on the
grill cover.

Moms, daughters and cousins; so much beauty in one place!

The original farm was, I believe, 100 acres.  It was divided for the Patriarch's descendants, and the family traditions continue.

La Familia Burbano has a proud heritage in and around Cuenca.  Cesar Sr. is a well-known and accomplished artist.  As an architect he also taught at the local university, retiring only recently.

 Three generations of Cesar Burbano men,
and we are proud to know and love them all.
Cesar Jr. (on the right) is our Ecuadorian son
who lived with us in Scio.

Cesar's son is also Cesar, but we know him as Daniel

Cesar and his cousin, Marisabel (now a teacher)
were Matt's schoolmates in Cuenca.








On Sunday afternoon we traveled with Cesar, Cesar Sr. and Dora, his beautiful wife of 50 years, even higher into the majestic Andes to the ancient Inca ruins of Ingapirca.  We had a native tour guide who speech was succinct and clear, a rare trait these days!  It was fun to be able to decipher a few of her words. At one stop I was able to discern that the rocks with holes ground
out were used for determining times and season.
The culture and traditions of Ecuador reverberate
in these peaks!
These ruins led to the Templo del Sol.

for storing grain during years of abundance

Cesar Sr. - ever the artist

Dora, Sherri and Neal with Tempo del Sol in the background.

Our excellent native guide.

 Neal with our host and beloved Ecuadorian son, Cesar.  He still tends us like a devoted son.  His parents are truly blessed, as is he.

Amazingly no grout was used in the construction of these buildings.  The stone, hand-hewn and lifted by human might, have stood the test of time and somewhat harsh elements.

Neal and Sherri in front of the Templo del Sol

The relatively short hike at an altitude of approximately 12,000 feet did wonders for our appetite.  Cesar has friends everywhere ~ including at this charming hotel and restaurant snuggled into the crest of the hills, where we enjoyed a delicious lunch.  The beauty of tradition dominated the weekend - Cesar's friend's father, the founder of the resort, was also an artist.  His son, Cesar's friend, now hosts the establishment.  We received special treatment in our tour of the property.  I really want to go back for a weekend with both Sperling and Burbano families!

The gazebo and beautiful yard, overlooking panoramic views, 
whispers tranquility and awe.

 Cesar Sr. apparently is also a musician!

A tale of three cities ...

Actually, not really a tale, but an understanding of purpose and identity.  Salinas (where we currently stay) is the tourist/party town.  Nearby La Libertad is the commercial center and just beyond that is Santa Elena, the county seat of government; all three are in the province (similar to county) of Santa Elena.  Finally understanding that, we thought it might be wise to catch a better vision for what material resources are not only available but affordable here (verses the tariffs on bringing our own ...)
It was a delightful excursion with our first stop at Tia Sentro ... a cross between dollar tree/grocery store/variety store ~ and worth the whole 30 cent bus fare to get there!  The prices are far less than in Salinas, and we were relieved to know that many of the kitchen/dining room items (plastics, basic dishware, etc.) are affordable here verses shipping.  Small kitchen appliances ~ we confirmed that we will bring ours :)   Another ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL ITEM for ME will be noise-deadening headphones!  These folks take music in the stores (and on the streets!) to a WHOLE NEW LEVEL!  And I complain about the stores and malls in the States ... however, each venture into the community only increases our love for and desire to come here; it confirms our call.

The grocery selection at Tia's was good and for the most part well priced.  Learning what's what is essential ~ praise God Cesar took us shopping on our first day in Salinas or I would have bought yogurt or ready-to-eat oatmeal instead of milk; what a shock that would have been!

Milk is on the shelf in boxes or bags.

Yogurt in a plastic jug, like our milk.

Oatmeal, ready to pour and eat, with a variety of flavor choices.

You don't need to understand Spanish to know what these are!

 

Maybe it was breaking my foot in Turkey, maybe it is the experience of multiple trips to developing nations, but for the most part I've learned to watch the ground when I walk ~ these are typical examples of why.

The minimal Spanish I've learned has enabled me to ask basic directions, so we were able to wander  and find the other shopping area we had been told about. It was fronted by a pleasant community square and several other little business ... one of which was a Colombian bakery that beckoned us.  The clerk had a charming smile and graciously worked with my broken Spanish to describe the incredible delicacies in his case.  Neal, preferring safety, chose a doughnut.  For me there is an assumption that ANYTHING with COCONUT has got to be good.

Neal's doughnut was filled with something similar to dulce de leche and was as incredibly delicious as my choice - a plain shortbread-type cookie filled with dulce de leche and coconut!  This is definitely a place to remember!

This food-vendor Mama has a helper.

Vendors sell food from kiosks or barrels ...

Not sure, but I think he was tired of his Sister ...
Mama had to come and rescue her!

The streets continue to fascinate us. Libertad, more than Salinas, affords a more typical Ecuadorian shopping experience.  Breakfast/lunch/dinner, supplies, gifts and most daily needs can be purchased right on the street. The people are friendly and we feel very safe and at-home.  Each day is a new adventure, and each day awaken within us the need to live the love of Jesus Christ among them!

I've heard guinea pig is a delicacy here ...
don't know enough Spanish yet to know what this is ...

Good to know, just in case.

Christmas is in the air, though not as massively
marketed yet as in the States

 

Go to Manta, they said.  It's ... oh ... a couple hours?  It's a nice bus ride, they said.  It's cheap, they said.  Let's go to Manta! we said.  It's the farthest north we might want to locate.  Tomorrow we'll go to Puerto Lopez since it's only half the distance; meanwhile we'll scope out the whole coast to the north. We like adventure!
So we pack a lunch using the nice little Coleman insulted travel bag I bought at a yard sale right before we came.  (Had to justify the $2.50 so I used to it carry my larger toiletries on the trip; here it doubles as our picnic bag.)  By 10:15 a.m. we walked out the door and took the 40 minute bus ride to the terminal in Ballenita, plunked and stumbled with an occasional Spanish word explaining our location desire ... while they skittered through their language like Liberace on piano keys ... made a few go-rounds through the turnstiles while THEY figured out which bus we needed ... then managed to get on the correct bus at 11 a.m.  And voila, the man who led us to the correct bus at the terminal was also the kind man who took fares at the intermediate stops; we felt like we had a guardian angel.
Sandy beaches and some quaint ... others not so much so ... villages graced our view for the next couple hours, when we had to change buses in Puerto Lopez. Take two of the plunk and stumble, shown up with the Liberace magic of their Spanish ... finally another very friendly guardian showed us to the correct bus to Manta.  And again, voila!  This very solicitous, gray haired, smiling man started by encouraging me to wear my hat because we were on the sunny side of the bus, and was our most gregarious and friendly maestro during the REMAINDER of the THREE HOURS to Manta. 

He was obviously very proud of Ecuador and didn't want us to miss a moment of it.  No matter that we didn't understand more than a word or two of what he said ~ he was delighted to share the glory of the expanse of white beaches, which we could tell by his accompanying hand signals stretched ALL THE WAY TO MANTA!  "Take a picture!" is apparently what he frequently repeated.

Have I ever mentioned that I don't like noise?  Praise God the attendants on both legs of the journey were pretty thoughtful to this cranky American and turned the music down ... a little.
By 4 p.m. we arrived, gloriously looking the part of typical, bedraggled tourists ... to find out that the last bus BACK was at 5 p.m. ... Our forever impression of Manta will be a noisy, bustling, jostling, diesel-smelling bus terminal.  After an interesting trip to the bathrooms ~ no toilet seats (not uncommon, I've found), no running water (even in the toilet), and they charge for TP (I always bring my own) ~ I still had to pay 30 cents to use it. The attendant ladled water over my hands to wash (and dug out a questionable bar of soap when she realized what I was looking for) and then flushed the toilet using an old jug which she dunked in a bin of soapy water. Not bad for 30 cents ~ we managed to once again plunk our way on the keyboard of language and hear the rapid staccato of their response, get return tickets purchased, and carefully maneuver our way around buses, taxis and the occasional car to a little restaurant across the street.

We actually, possibly regrettably, missed out on their specialty of roasted chicken because of hamburger and french fries just sounded so good!  So for $5 (the four hour bus trip was $15 for two, one way) we enjoyed a delicious meal, a Coke and a berry juice ... before getting back on the bus for our return trip.

Have I ever mentioned that I don't like noise?  Buses, taxis, cacophony of hawkers selling wares ... same/same, world over.  Not so bad.  Do you know how many Jean-Claude Van Damme movies can be blasted over the loud speaker of a bus on a nearly five-hour trip?  Well, just in case you don't, let me tell you ~~ two-thirds of one already started, two more in their entirety, and then another about half-way through.  Just in case you wanted to know.

Back at the terminal in Ballenita, we felt like we were almost home and with a huge sigh of relief knew what to do.  The loud music on that 35 minute ride was at least fairly "easy listening", until an apparently very humorous talk show came on ... life will make a little more sense here when we learn Spanish ... and for this sound-sensitive American a lot more pleasant when I get noise-cancelling headphones!  Oh, the glorious sound of silence to this weary traveler when we stepped off the local bus at 10:30 p.m.
Want to go to Puerto Lopez tomorrow?  NO, THEY SAID!

Same-Same, but different ... but the Same!

Whether the West Coast of North America in Salem, OR ...

or the West Coast of South America in Salinas, Ecuador ... 

North Pole, South Pole ...

Europe or Africa ...

Mongolia or Australia ...

The church is the same.  But different.  Myriad languages, fascinating cultures, intriguing traditions ... 

Worshiping One God Who never changes ... Who always delights in our prayers ...

One Lord ... One Faith... One Baptism  ... one God and Father of all, Who is over all, in all, and living through all. (Eph. 4:5-6)  Hallelujah!

Today we had the joy of uniting Ecuadorian hearts in prayer with many from Salem First Baptist to pray again for the property that we are asking God to provide for the ministry here.  What a delightful privilege!

Same-Same, but different.  But the same!  Glory to God!
From left back: Lenora, Eric, Tony, Pastor Lana, Suzi, Linda, Sherri and Neal.  Ecuadorian sister Susana is holding the camera.