Ten days home and already the images of Ecuador are fading under the weight of more urgent to-do list items. The memories burned into my nostrils, into my sweaty palms and through my gaze these days tend to be more of an echo. It's like the droopy fade of a train's fleeing tone- you know that sound they make as they distance themselves, almost a disappointed moan as the Doppler Effect lengthens invisible waves between choo choo and ear drum. Anyway, one last fight to keep the memories fresh...
I remember walking down a street in Otavalo and reading a young kid's T-shirt, which said: "La odren no ipmotra", and the meaning of which I immediately understood. The odrer of thigns realyl INS'T imoptrant. What's important is not an appearance of alignment, nor a comfortable organization of things, but rather what they make us feel. So that's the prevailing theme as I wrap up the visit to one of the world's most beautiful, and at times disorderly, places.
Ecuador is beautiful for its love of the Sacagawea dollar. The country has its own $.25. $.10 and $.05 coins, among which our own quarters and nickels party like the expats they've become. Ecuador is beautiful, if not a bit unruly, for the regiment of its Quiteños who board buses and drone their way through a memorized schpeeeel about why we should all invest in their little wares. "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and may God bless you day. Please excuse this small interruption but I encourage you today to open your hearts and hear my few, humble words. My name is... My story is... and this is why for just twenty-five cents I ask that you consider the small token investment and purchase this..." One guy on a bus from Cuenca to Quito even spent an hour telling us why we needed ginko biloba royal jelly (to be taken twice daily). Just $5 for ten bottles.
Ecuador's street dogs also make it a beautiful place. Sometimes they roam in packs, sometimes alone.
Ecuador is beautiful for its great-great grandkids of the Inca; urban youth who have adopted the contemporary "trucker hat and skate shoes" look, but who wear their hair long and pulled back. I saw most of these kids in Otavalo, where there are no ice cream trucks, but where the garbage trucks seem to have stolen the amplified tone (like a Chinese string instrument crossbred with a small, metal toy xylophone). Except, instead of drawing a crowd, the trucks send people scattering.
Another element of beauty in Ecuador is the people's humble fascination with the TV show "Bailando por un Sueño", which pairs famous people with younger dreamers who dance to hit songs and compete in front of a panel of judges to win money that will be spent on fulfilling their "dream" (typically of helping family members or friends in need). It's a bit less selfish than our version of the contest, and pretty emotional at times. I think I cried at least twice watching the show as I dozed off in a Cuencan hostel.
The story of the Inca warrior Rumiñahui, who had Quito burned to the ground rather than let it be taken by the troops under conquistador Francisco Pizarro in 1533, is another amazing element to Ecuador's history. Atahualpa, Rumiñahui and their traditions of INTI RAYMI (Fiesta del Sol) mid-summer remind us of the great empire that preceded Christianity there.
Finally, as with most places worth experiencing, the little country at the middle of the world's western hemisphere has its own fascinating sets of dualities:
...tinted glass and marble adjacent to cinder block and corrugated tin.
...7th story rooftop laundry lines and bright, modern, burgeoning laundry facilities.
...shiny new BMW SUVs, two-to-a-seat motorbikes, entire families on a single bicycle.
...felt fedora hats and shoulders wrapped in shawls, business suits with mismatched belts and shoes.
...the bouquet of sweet bread, urine, excessive perfume, earth and diesel.
...dusty mountain passes and midday construction sites, and the regular 4pm downpour.
....tourists and our technical fabrics that sing of North Face and Patagonia, and the locals and their centuries-old alpaca wool, both softer and warmer than the former.
The sierra and its jagged peaks, soaring condors and milennia of mythology will be missed. Until next time. 
