6 January
We came back from Rumicocho and had lunch and coffee not a moment too soon. I spent the rest of the day reading and feeling like shit due to the altitude. Since it was Saturday night, we decided to go to a bar I had been to before called Arribar. The bar was quiet at first and then got crowded very fast. As we were getting close to leaving, a Quiteno named Helgi sat next to me. He told me he was a DJ – a real one with turntables even. He was very drunk.
Jacob went to smoke weed with some Colombians, a German and an American while I stayed with my new friend whose birthday was 22 September 1975, exactly one day before mine. We talked and walked and sat on a corner and made out.
“You are cold. You kiss like you don’t like it”, he tells me as we sit, arms around each other on a busy street full of cars and pedestrians.
“In my country, people don’t sit on the street and make out” I tell him. “I am not used to this. I feel like everyone is watching us and I’m just not used to it.”
“No one is watching.” He points around to other people on the street, many of whom are huddled together in pairs just like us and then laughs with teeth showing and kisses me again.
A moment later, the sting of the “you are cold” statement sinks its familiar claws into my heart. “You don’t really think I’m cold do you? What do you mean?” It’s too late. We’ve already started laughing and I’ve already started trying to prove that I am not cold, only culturally unaccustomed to such behavior.
I kiss him this time and smile, “No soy fria.”
Finally, we make our way back to the Hostal Petite, where we had moved the day before, and waited outside for Jacob who showed up minutes later. We talked outside the hostal for an hour or so with Helgi doing most of the talking in broken English that was peppered with more “yo”’s than I ever thought possible. He talked of wanting to come to the US – wanting the freedom that we represent, yo. He says that his country has no culture. People go to school, get married and have kids. I tried to explain to him that I grew up in a town where the majority of people did the same exact thing that he described as culture-less. The US he knows is pop culture. You can see and hear it everywhere here. The music in Quito, the clothes people wear. Harry Potter en espanol.
At the same time as wanting to come to the US, he also wants Ecuador for Ecuador – he wants Ecuador to make her own cars, her own music, her own style. At first I thought these two desires contradicted each other, but I don’t think they do. After talking for a while we went up to bed and he left to go home. We made plans to meet Sunday at 2:00 pm at Arribar.
Thus began the day of debauchery. At 2:00 pm Helgi and Jorge met us. Jorge was just as crazy, funny, friendly and talkative as Helgi. They took us to a mirador (lookout point) that I had visited with the OU study abroad class last time I visited this country. It overlooked a deep, lushly green valley with small adobe houses clinging to the sides, strung out along the dirt footpath like small brown beads.
After the mirador, we went to a tienda so the guys could get beers. We sat in the street on the curb in front of the store drinking and talking and laughing. “Jorge the punk rocker” and “Helgi the hip hopper”, as they called themselves. They talked music with Jacob most of the day. All three knew a lot more about hip hop and punk rock than I could ever pretend to. Then Helgi brought up Muddy Waters who I’ve heard my dad listening to on vinyl since I was a kid. I was impressed.
After the mirador, we went to another tienda around the corner. There I joined them for another beer. We sat in the street again talking. Jorge seemed to understand English sometimes and Helgi speaks very well. I tried out my Spanish and even told a joke in Spanish that made everyone laugh, though I can’t remember it. Jorge and Helgi spent much time singing – Jorge especially. He also talked about the love of his life – a gringa named Cheryl whose father forbid her to see him.
“She break my heart and make me drunk”, or so he said.
Later we went to the hostal so I could pee and then to another tienda for more beer. Jorge accidentally threw his hat onto the roof so the 3 of them managed to get it down with a broom and a human ladder. Then we went to another tienda where we were invited to sit on the stoop and drink more by a friendly old man who was cleaning the place and restocking. It poured down rain as we sat under the overhang of the store and talked and drank. By this time they were all really drunk. (I wasn’t drinking because I was still feeling altitude wierdness). Helgi proposed marriage to me. We kissed a few more times and they walked us back to the hostal.
He tells me so sweetly as we press against the side of a building trying to stay dry, “When I go home last night I am splashing water on my face and I think I kiss that girl. I can’t believe it.”
They also told us as we said goodbye, “Thank you for your trust”.
That was the best. Thank you for your trust.
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