The Coastal Saga Continues

If you thought that the fun ended in Jipi Japa (I still love that name), you were wrong.

Lorelai and I arrived in Puerto Lopez around 11:00 AM. The air was full of salt and the beach was in sight, but we still could not go swimming. Since arriving in Ecuador, Lorelai had developed an allergic reaction. I will spare you most of the medical details. It suffices to say that she could not poop without feeling excruciating pain. As a result, our first priority in Puerto Lopez was finding a doctor. I had spent the past day calling the International Association for Medical Assistance to Travellers and assorted American consulates. When we were on the bus, the American Consulate in Guayaquil finally called with the name of a doctor down the street from our hostel in Puerto Lopez.

After checking in, Lorelai and I shuffled down the street to the doctor (apparently, walking fast was also very painful). We climbed up two flights of stairs and were greeted by Doctor Developing Country, decked out in scrubs and flip-flops. Dr. DC did not speak any English and Lorelai did not speak any Spanish, so I got to translate. After sitting down in a dark office with blood stains and a used syringe on the floor, Lorelai began to describe her symptoms.

After asking Lorelai to diagnose her ailment (I thought he was supposed to be the doctor), Dr. DC began asking about the affected area. I translated the questions and responses and, I admit, elicited my fair share of nervous giggles. In the end, Dr. DC sent me to buy urine and stool sample cups at the pharmacy down the street. He told Lorelai that she had an hour to poop because he wanted to be out of the office by 1:00. Lorelai and I went out to lunch and made our best effort to order stool-friendly food.

1:00 PM rolled around. Lorelai could not do number two. We returned to the office. I explain to Dr. DC that Lorelai had not met the poop deadline.

Antigone: Would you please look at her condition and make a diagnosis based on what you see?
Dr. DC: No. I am too embarassed. However, I will give her a prescription. Tell her to take these four medicines and stop using her anti-malarials.
Antigone: Why should she stop taking anti-malarials?
Dr. DC: Because they're the root of her problem.
Antigone: But she's only been on anti-malarials for two days. Her condition started two weeks ago!
Dr. DC: Oh, well, she should still stop taking them.

Lorelai and I left the office, confounded by Third World medicine, but finally free to go to the beach. We bought daquiris from a nearby stand and plopped down on the shore. The next two days were very relaxing. We swam, stared at fishing boats, ate fresh fish, and visited Isla de la Plata, ''the Poor Man's Galapagos.''

On Wednesday, we decided to move onto Montañita, the surfing capital of Ecuador. When we first arrived, Montañita was a cute, little beach town filled with chiseled men in board shorts. Lorelai and I read on the beach, played in massive waves, and made friends with surfer dudes. When the weekend came, our mundo was turned up-side-down. President Correa had declared Thursday, May 1 a national holiday. By Friday, the beach was filled with umbrellas, and downtown Montañita seemed more like a partying theme park than a village. At night, music spilled from all of the clubs and bars, and dance parties spontaneously generated in the streets. Most people gave up sleeping. Clubs blasted music until 6:00 and construction projects began at 8:00. I celebrated my youth for practically 45 hours straight (granted, I managed to squeeze in a 2-hour long nap). Then, I boarded a bus to Guayaquil at 5:00 AM on Sunday morning, the beginning of a thirteen-hour trek back to Quito.

My journey home was an exhaustion-induced mind trip. I crashed as soon as I sat down on the quiet bus, only to be shaken awake by the driver.

Driver: Two gringos are trying to run onto the bus. They say that you have their tickets.

I had originally planned to travel home with Chad and Whiny, two Americans studying abroad in Quito. Lorelai wanted to stay in Montañita to take Spanish classes. After buying tickets for the bus to Guayaquil (the first leg of the trip), Chad and Whiny had met a random girl on the beach who offered to let them go directly to Quito in her car when she overheard them mention their destination. I had elected to stick with the bus. Hitchhiking in Ecuador sounded like a bad idea, even if it would save me four hours. At 5:00, Chad and Whiny realized that they could not find their ride. Thus, they decided to chase after the bus. When they finally boarded, I was very tired and confused. I started talking loudly at them in a Spanish and English. Then, we all crashed in our seats after I gave the driver our shared ticket.

We arrived in Guayaquil at 8:00, spent an hour in the terminal going to the bathroom and eating breakfast. Then, we hopped on a nine-hour bus to Quito. When I finally got home at 6:30, I was smelly and spent.