Guayaquil, Saturday May 16

Raquel has a weekend gathering with a women's democracy group in Santa Elena, a small tourist city on the coast. I'm invited, and although I'm interested in seeing more of the country and learning about women's rights, the thought of leaving at 5am and listening to more Spanish, on top of 2 nights of poor sleeping, makes the decision obvious: I'm going to stay in Guayaquil and play tourist.

It's 9:30 before I leave, already getting very hot. Senor R asks a neighbor to drive me to the Malecon and gives me all kinds of warnings about safety and a fair price for a taxi home. No more than 3 dollars! I'd planned to get the #44 bus into town, but it seems rude to turn down this offer, and the neighbor and I have a good chat and I get started sooner on the hike up Santa Anna Hill. This is an old part of town with winding streets leading up to a lighthouse, church, and remains of an old fort. As part of the cleanup of downtown, it was rebuilt starting in about 2000, and how has cafes, bars, brightly painted houses with plantings, art galleries, and boutique hotels, all watched over by security police who look you over while offering a polite greeting. The other visitors include some young adolescent boys jumping into a fountain at the base, a few Ecuadoran families, several young Ecuadoran couples looking for privacy, and a redfaced European couple, probably in transit to the Galapogos.

The climb via a series of steps and ramps has good shade most of the way, and a breeze at the top. The lighthouse is an extra climb worth the trouble, as it gives a panoramic view of the river, the uninhabited Santay Island and other towns across the river, airport and new skyscrapers, older Colonial buildings and neighborhoods, and the hills not far off. Looking down Samta Anna Hill across the tops of the reconstructed houses, you can see that although the walls below are rebuilt and repainted, the roofs are not: sheets of rusting tin patched together. Hot in the day, but probably they cool pretty quickly in the evening.

Here's where I start to see the downtown recycling bins, as well as soda bottles left in the light house windows. Young men in overall uniforms are trimming and watering the plantings; probably a good job. Guayaquil had big problems with pirates in the 18th century, and a popular tourist hangout uses this theme; a wooden pirate with spyglass perches in a tree at eyelevel with the tourists visiting the church.

Coffee and snack on the way down, then to the Museum of History and COntemporary Art, suported by the Bank of Ecuador: top rated and interesting in all aspects. It's a modern building built of wood, stone and metal that mimics a ship drawn up to shore. Inside, large windows frame the river. The main exhibit is about Ecuador's 10,000 years of history, built around thousands of artifacts from early periods. The ceramic work is particularly interesting;you can track development over time from simpler to more sophisticated. The later work around 100CE has very detailed and finely worked features on animals and human figures. It seems that earlier ceremonial figures were mostly feminine and the later ones are masculine: more threatening visages and domineering poses. Does that mean that early civilizations draw on the female strengths of caretaking and community? then once established, the men take over with the urge to dominate and spread?

US museums could learn a lot on how to capture and keep visitor's interests with videos, hangings, and not overemphasizing the date and provenance of every item. Very well done here, and it's amazing to come across stone vases, metates, anchors, knives and pedestals on display without being tied down. Granted, one would be heavy to carry out, but perfectly possible. Maybe they sort through the visitors and decide who's worth tracking through the museum. if so, I'm not considered a threat.

The other display of interest is oil painting by a Columbian artist Dario Ortiz: classic themes such as Three Graces, Oedipus and family, The Golden Age, but set in modern times. His nudes are well done and provocative. There's also a fun room of art by Guayaquilenos who otherwise wouldn't have space for their work to be displayed. Nice idea!
Outside again into the heat, and looking for shady ways to get down the Malecon. Closer to the street are areas with native plantings and shade. The part next to the water is breezier, but brutally hot in the sun. At the Restaca, I get crab soup (in season now) and grilled conch, with a beer and long rest.

It's interesting that there are so few entries into the Malecon along its 1 1/2 mile length. A tall decorative iron fence separates it from Simon Bolivar Ave, with perhaps 4 opening at a few major intersections. Why? Maybe to make it a special, separate place; or to thwart thieves who would otherwise have easy entrance and exit? From 1-3pm, it's pretty empty, since most locals know the challenges of being out in the heat. Later, families come out for ice cream and play time. No street vendors here: Raquel tells me that they are closely regulated in the city center, and often arrested for operating without a license.

Throughout the city are various monuments to early leaders, starting with Simon Bolivar and San Martin (only Bolivar is remembered now, as San Martin left the independence battlefield for reasons probably forever obscure).I depart the Malecon at August 10th Avenue to find the Nahim Isais Museum for its pre-Columbian work, but instead find a century by century description of Guayaquil, from Indians through conquistadores, pirates, Spaniards and slavery, to independence led by criollos - the term for Spaniards who settled here and eventually broke away from Spain. Borders were inclear in the early days, and Ecuador must have be part of Colombia at some point: 2 18th c drawings of the city are marked as Guayaquil, Peru, with Peru crossed out and replaced with Columbia. As at the other museum, the displays are focused, short, and well done, with videos of actors playing the part of key historical figures. My guide in English is a direct translation from the Spanish, and sometimes it's more confusing than the Spanish. It's nice to be able to use both languuages.

A quick stop at the Seminary Park for ice cream and to shiver at the hundreds of iguanas who live an easy life there, strolling the grounds and fed by visitors. Young kids and I are terrorized at the thought of holding out a sugar cane stick for them to grab. Unfortunately, the young kids sometimes don't get a choice of standing back, as their parents really want them to have this experience.

Along the main avenue across the city, I come across a late afternoon parade by youth groups from all the military schools and organizations in the city, marking the life of Rocafuerte, an important colonial military figure. Dozens of marching bands, drum and flag corps, and kids with practice rifles. The glockenspiel is everywhere, often more than 6 to a band. I could have kept it up, moved to Ecuador, joined the army, and had a career in a marching band.

And finally, home on the #44. Early on, a middle aged guy jumps aboard and tries out his routine in English with me. He may really have been Jewish with family in New York, but he sat too close by and clearly wanted a connection. It was heartening to see other Ecudoran men looking over with concern as I navigated my bag between me and Oscar. He jumped off soon after.

Home about 7pm with Senor R looking a bit anxious outside the house. I had thought I'd be back by 6, and they had no way of knowing if I was OK. Soon to bed after an exhausting day!

Clarita