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One thing I do miss a lot about Panama was spending New Year’s Eve in Portobelo at the home of my friend, Sandra Eleta .  Being the great lady that she is, it was always fascinating and since I spent a one night with her when I was in Panama a couple of months ago, missing it was felt all the more.  Her Portobelo compound was always filled with the most interesting people no matter when you visited, but New Year’s Eve was special.  It instilled in me an appreciation for new spiritual traditions.  The custom of burning a muneco (doll in English, but almost a life-sized scarecrow-like rendition in real life or as most foreigners here call them: effigies.) of someone you dislike was something I adored in Panama, so I was very glad to see it’s just as much of a custom here in Ecuador.  In Panama, they’re called munecos.  In Ecuador, they’re called ‘Ano Viejos’.  

In Ecuador, there is one big difference.  The munecos are generic and masks are sold separately in order to put a ‘face’ on them.  That these creatures are even sold is another big difference.  In Panama, they are all individually made.  In Cuenca, they are piled high in certain areas a few days in advance.  People buy, buy, buy in order to burn, burn, burn on New Year’s Eve.  At midnight in the historic center, you can see fires up and down the streets, globos in the sky, fireworks all over and a layer of smoke covering town as thick as the fog up in the Cajas.

This year, I decided to bring a tradition of Sandra’s to Cuenca.  I stood on the roof in the center watching the fireworks and writing a list of things from 2008 that I wanted out of my life and a list of things for 2009 that I wanted to invite into my life.  I don’t think that’s Panama or Ecuador…that’s Sandra. Writing the list made me realize 2008 was a pretty good year for me.

I loved the concept the first time we placed our lists into the firecracker stuffed muneco before he was perched above Portobelo Bay in readiness for midnight.  There’s something  about Portobelo that I have so loved from the first time I saw the place that I rarely to never even wrote about it for protection.  I saw what my writing had done to/for Casco Viejo and did not want to see the same happen in Portobelo.  That beautiful bay full of art and struggle; heat and humidity; cool jungle breezes at night and the town itself cradling minimal shoreline that just oozes centuries of significance and is dominated by a culture of diablos y congos.  What’s not to love?  Well, many think ‘black and poverty’ is a command to avoid.  I’m happy about that as it is a built in protection for what happened to most of Panama…all that 21st century colonialism is the new culture of the country with only a few hold-outs and Portobelo is one that defies capture.  You have to marvel at the parallel given that most of the town’s inhabitants come from an ancestry of cimarrones … slaves who managed to escape Spanish galleons by hiding in the jungle covered hills in the area.

My introduction to Portobelo was at a Diablos y Congos Festival that is sponsored every two years by Sandra.  I had a crappy little 1.3 megapixel Olympus point and shoot that might as well have been a Canon DSLR that day.  I learned how much I loved taking photos by being so swept away with what I was witnessing and trying to capture what I was witnessing that I was lost.  I was no longer there…I existed merely through the lens and I thought, "This is what a musician feels on stage.  There is no past..no future..no problems…no anything other than this magnificant present."  Lost.  I remember ending up ‘backstage’ at the fort in Portobelo where performers were readying themselves for their public performance or just mulling about.  At one point, some men began drumming and one man in particular himself was ‘lost’ in that drumming to the point of dancing like a man possessed.  His eyes were no longer normal, but some altered version of what they are without that spirit dominating his every free-form dance move.  I clicked away from whatever angle I was moved to try.  I had zero inhibitions and was free to impose myself wherever the shot took me.  It was exhillarating!  This was the epitome of joy in human form!  I will never forget that day as long as I live and I’ve been taking photos ever since.

Someone who spends the holidays with me and has known me a few years asked me what I missed about Panama.  Portobelo tops the list.  After thinking, I had to add the ability to buy good cheese.  This is, of course, apart from some friends.  I do sometimes also miss the lushness of the country, but last time I was there, it seemed so raped by man, all the more obvious by the lushness that had been destroyed. Plus, I REALLY do NOT miss the heat and humidity that went hand in hand with that sort of tropical growth.

Over the holidays, my friends and I did a lengthy Ecuador coastal trip.  Yes, you have to drive through about 40 miles of pea soup fog in the Cajas with those drop offs that would allow your car to fly for awhile mid-air if you ever went over.  And yes, there are still large patches of missing pavement or broken pavement with zero lines to guide in that blinding fog, but there were no landslides this time. As usual, I got lost in Guayaquil coming and going. We stopped before Ayanque to find Playa Rosada at the end of quite the dirt road over a hilltop that ends at a cliff above the sea with a crescent beach below.  Pink sand?  I don’t think so.  This was so not worth the trouble.  But we did make it up to Salinas for Christmas dinner and had the BEST shrimp I think I have ever had at a Malecon restaurant called MAR Y TIERRA. Gumba a la plancha… medium sized shrimp grilled to perfection and absolutely incredible.

I’m surprised more people don’t choose Salinas over Manta.  It seems the amenitie s are similar and even the airport is increasing the number of flights.  Plus, it’s much, much closer by car to a major city with Guayaquil less than 2 hours away.  In Salinas, there seems to be quite a difference between the northern, larger more public part of the beach in front of the Malecon than the more exclusive, smaller beach south of the Salinas Yacht Club. The southern cresent has the same, calm water, but the beach is nicely raked so lacking in the rocks that are so abundant on the northern side. In short, there is a big difference in the beach in Salinas and it’s much, much nicer on the south side.

Despite what we had been told, everything was open and there were plenty of hotel rooms available on Christmas night. After referring to two guide books, we apparently confused the name and ended up staying at a terrible hotel I would not recommend ever: Salinas Suites. Two ground floor discos equalled boom, boom, boom base until 4 am.  I took a room on the 4th floor, had to ask for towels and a blanket and then cranked up CNN and the AC to drown out all but the sound of those two things.  Ah well, one night.  Se la vie.

The next day, we continued north and I was able to introduce my friends to Montanita, Olon, Ayampe and Puerto Lopez where we instantly had to have batidos from the seafront stands along the Malecon.  This is a Puerto Lopez must.  I had booked us into a beautiful, beautiful lodge called the MantaRaya Lodge .  It is located 3 kilometers (5 minutes) before Puerto Lopez.  The sprawling, colorful adobe lodge is on a hill overlooking the sea and National Park.  Our rooms were large, food was decent, coffee was very good and though I never actually used it, the pool was gorgeous.  No TV, no telephones, no AC…but none of those things were just fine.  As hot as it was outside, up on that hill there was always a breeze and as long as you were not in the sun, the temperature felt perfect.  With just the ceiling fan at night, the comforter was in order.  Birds were abundant!  It was great fun to sit poolside and watch so many different types of birds do pool fly-bys for a swooping sip.  The province of Manabi means "no water" in the original tongue.  So wherever there is water, the wildlife comes.  Service at Mantaraya Lodge is stupendous!  After one service, a waiter named Miguel was then able to anticipate my needs.  Outstanding waiter!

We were up and at ‘em early on the 27th to head out for Isla de La Plata, often called the "Poor Man’s Galapagos" due to the abundance of blue-footed, red-footed and Nazca boobies, the frigates and apparently the marine life given the same Humboldt current that flows out to the Galapagos from this area of the coast.  Between June and September, the area between Isla de La Plata and the coast is breeding grounds for humpback whales, thus those are also high season months along the central Manabi coastline.  But alas, this is December and I’m yet to see the many whales in the waters there.  However, one of my friends is a big birder.  So sighting many Vermillion Flycatchers from Olon up to Puerto Lopez was already a big thrill, but on Isla de La Plata, we’re standing two fee t away from blue-footed booby babies and their parents. Same for Nazca boobies and frigates, but the red-footed boobies are apparently very low in population and only nest in a tree across a ravine we can’t get very near.  All the other boobies nest on the ground and are not only very accessible, but the population is enormous. There were chicks of varying sizes and some mothers were still sitting on eggs. I was especially struck by how, like most species, the babies’ eyes are much larger than the parents.  This place is like a Disney version of Hitchcock’s "The Birds".  Yes, the populations are there, but none are agressive.  They might get loud if you get too close to their newborns, but for the most part, they just watch you.  They make noise whether you’re around or not.  Their mouths are open and they pant like dogs do as a means of ventillation in that hot sun.  (More photos here .)

And it was a reference to the heat in Panama that made me think of the heat on Isla de La Plata.  I just do not tolerate that kind of heat very well…not at all.  Granted, we don’t have the humidity Panama has, but try climbing steep hills and walking 8 kilometers in mid-day equatorial sun with no shade whatsoever.  My hands were so swollen I could not even make a fist.  Using sunscreen (mandatory) seals in the heat, so I think the guide was getting concerned by the cooked lobster color of my face. That’s my Scottish roots, fair skin, as opposed to any real concern, but I can see why some would expect me to keel over at any point.  I can say some of the vistas were stunning and especially if you’re a birder, being feet or inches away from such rare creatures as boobies and frigates would be quite thrilling, but I also think it might be better to go here before you have Galapagos reference rather than afterwards.  I was not very well informed in advance, but if I had known that me diving would not equal leaving my friends on their own, I would most definitely have opted to dive while the others hiked…which next time there is what I will do.  You can either take the 4+ hour hike (in the broiling midday sun) or go diving or snorkeling instead.  No choice though I never knew I had a choice. In spite of all that, I’m glad I did it as I have now twice been to the Galapagos without seeing red-footed boobies or Nazca (masked) boobies. And the price of diving is far more reasonable here than in the Galapagos.

The boat we went out on belongs to the Mantaraya Lodge and indeed is called The MantaRaya.  It was twice as fast as others available and I must say, service and our guide were fantastic.  I had informed the hotel that I could not eat wheat as lunch for the day is typically a sandwich.  Instead, they packed me a lovely piece of chicken served with wonderful rosemary potatoes, carrots and broccoli.  Before lunch, we were served slices of the sweetest watermelon and juicy pineapple which was great fun to eat with your hands while the juices dripped over the side into the sea…like being a kid again and not caring how messy you get.  The water in the cove where we ate lunch was incredibly clear and beautiful.  You didn’t even have to snorkel to see all the colorful, tropical fish.

That night, we went into Puerto Lopez for dinner as I had heard from people I would trust that the Italian Restaurant there is great.  Bella Italia, I think.  True to its reputation, food was excellent and the outdoor garden setting was absolutely charming.  Husband and wife owners are Italian.  I had eggplant parmisan and my friends had pasta.  From California and well traveled, one friend raved that the pasta was cooked more perfectly than any he had ever had.

The next day was a leisurely drive on up the coast arriving in Manta relatively late in the afternoon. Ecuador’s Ruta del Sol is akin to California’s Pacific Coast Highway.  It’s a windy road running (mostly) directly beside or directly above the Pacific Ocean..beautiful drive through incredibly arid country and a relatively fierce looking sea. It’s almost shocking how dry Manabi is.  Original tribes sure named it accurately. The vast majority of the coastline is brown, dry and seemingly lifeless. You develop a true appreciation for the camel of trees, the coastal ceibos, with their fat, palmlike trunk and green leaves you don’t even realize you are strongly feeling the absence of until that green is visible.  I’m sure that when I was young and immortal, I drove through dessert at some point, but this time, it was almost a viseral threat against human survival to see how devoid of water it is for all those who live there.  But, it’s seafront and wherever there is mainland seafront, people find a way to live there it seems.  And it seems all but perhaps Salinas is nothing more than a poor fishing village with shacks of bamboo or unfinished concrete that is covered with dust from the dry, sandy streets.  I do not find the coast very attractive with the exception of pockets here and there.  Sure, I love the hills with their sweeping views and then I think about driving an hour or more for groceries, the unrelenting equatorial sun, existing with slow internet, questionable water sources and, well, Cuenca looks all the more appealing to me. I personally could not wait to get back to where a sweater is in order.  Many think Cuenca is cold and granted, for a couple of months each year, it certainly can be.  But…I can always put on a thicker sweater.  The coastal sun you can only hide from inside expensive air conditioning or wait for the night when it’s cooler.

I can now understand the appeal of Manta for expats a bit more.  Not being a person drawn to living by the sea, I had never been there.  But it is growing like a weed…growing a bit like Panama actually.  High rises, pre-sales, condos and cluster homes by the sea on land that is shifting and requires tremendous reserves in time, materials and money to develop before a foundation can be called a foundation. Nice views, nice amenities, a SuperMaxi, movie theaters, the Banco Central Museum and prices going up, up, up.

Since my friends were most definitely on the lookout for real estate on our trip, checking out properties and agents was in order. Hands down the best you could ever do in Manta is Fernanda Carrasco.  Email her if you are looking in Manta. Fernanda is a wonderful woman from Cuenca who is a licensed agent and is fluent in English.  She will work for you as though you were an Ecuadorian.  By that, I mean get the price the locals expect, unearth/disclose any reason the project is questionable, and in general, treat you like a member of her own family.  It’s obvious she loves what she does and it’s equally obvious she puts your interests first…unlike others. She is not International Living and is as far away from that mindset as it gets.  You will never question her intent, her honor or her vocabulary.  And her husband builds incredibly beautiful (and eco savvy) bamboo furniture.  I’m not talking about the large, round rustic outdoor type of bamboo furniture.  I’m talking about exquisitely processed pieces from bamboo strips stained to resemble cherry or walnut.  Beautiful stuff!  His showroom is almost next to the Oro Verde Hotel underneath the ‘giant screen’ that hangs across the road: Bamboom .  If you’re in the market for property or furniture in Manta, this pair is a must to meet.

Leaving Manta we decided to ‘hurry’ back to Cuenca so we took the inland highway rather than backtracking along the coast.  Again, dry and dusty.  We decided not to do the little loops into Montecristi or Portoviejo, but just head straight back.  And yes, again I got lost in Guayaquil, but as all roads seem to run to San Marino for me, we stopped, had lunch and did a little shopping before heading up to Cuenca.  A week earlier, we finally hired a taxi in front of San Marino to show us the way out of Guayaquil and up to the Ruta del Sol.  We paid him to lead while we followed.  It helped a lot.  This time, I just wound around a bit and managed to find our way out.

In the flat stretch of cropland between Guayaquil and the Cajas, I had a "whew, that was close" moment. I decided to pass a large truck while I could, so now I’m going about 110 kph and am beside the truck when I see ahead a brahma bull who has decided now might be a good time to cross the highway.  I can only speed up and hope I beat him to the spot.  I did, but barely.  Don’t know if he made it across and was very grateful to have made it forward.  The fog was thick again, but I may actually have grown accustomed to driving on the edge of an abyss in blinding fog.  It’s no fun, but I no longer white knuckle it through…I just drive.

So my friends head back to the US and my new wonderful Australian friends have a fantastic New Year’s Eve dinner before we head out onto the streets of Cuenca for the burnings, the fireworks, the live Quechua music and to witness a tradition here that they don’t have in Panama.  Many run and jump through the fire of the burning ‘ano viejos’.  As one aptly put it, "It’s like a combination festive spirit / war zone."  At Padre Aguirre and Juan Jaramillo, seems revelers got a little carried away and began throwing whatever would burn into the middle of the intersection so when all was said and done, the fire was about 1.5 stories high. It was there I gave my 2008/2009 wishes to the fire for ascension to the heavens.  God I love globos and the way they end up looking like stars above the city.

See my small Holidays 2008 photo album on Flickr and Happy New Year!