Volcanos, Roses, and Manteles

By Monica Arredondo

could not believe what I was reading! Five days of wondering if he felt the same way I did! Wondering if he felt he same jolt of electricity run through his body each time our hands touched! Wondering if he felt the same elation that I did! Now, I'm thinking that he did! He wanted me to meet him in the garden after dinner! I am petrified! What do I do? Without fully processing my actions I replied, "Yes!" and hit send.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781984583987

Monica Arredondo

Monica Arredondo was born, raised, and educated in the beautiful state of California. The youngest of four siblings, she was always the one willing to take risks. Throughout her 27 year career in education she traveled extensively looking for that perfect place in which to retire. She ultimately chose Costa Rica. After living there and having explored all of Central America her desire for new adventures led her to Ecuador. Only she knows how long that will last.

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Volcanos, Roses,

and Manteles

Monica Arredondo

Copyright © 2020 by Monica Arredondo.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/09/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 June

Chapter 2 July

Chapter 3 August

Chapter 4 September

Chapter 5 October

Chapter 6 November

Chapter 7 December

Chapter 8 January

I

dedicate this book to Rebecca Phelps-Howard. I cannot begin to

thank her for the guidance and support that she has provided me

throughout an almost a decade long friendship. This book would

not have come to fruition without her. I am forever grateful.

CHAPTER ONE

June 15, 2018

Attention passengers. Avianca flight 693 to Bogotá with final destination Quito, Ecuador with begin the pre-boarding process in 10 minutes.

I was on my way to Ecuador! I was departing from San Juan Maria Airport in San Jose, Costa Rica. About to embark on an 8 day Classic Ecuador and Amazon Adventure! I would be traveling through Quito, Otavalo, Papallacta, Punta Ahuano, and Baños. Did not know anything about these places, but according to the travel brochure it was going to have an experience of a lifetime!

I had read several articles about Ecuador in preparation for my trip. I had read that it was the most diverse nation in the world. I also read that it had numerous volcanoes, that it had a variety of ethnic groups, and that Ecuadorian cuisine was exquisite.

I arrived at the Mariscal Sucre International Airport at 10:30 am. I was met by a representative from EcuaTours. After having stayed up all night I was groggy and a bit disoriented. I do not remember the sequence of events too well, but I followed the representative, who had introduced himself as Jorge, to an awaiting shuttle bus. Along with me there was a couple from New York who had arrived just prior. A retired doctor and his wife. As the three of us and Jorge walked towards the shuttle, I remembered someone coming up to me, taking my suitcase from my hand, and placing it in the back of the bus.

We boarded the shuttle and Jorge let us know that it would take about an hour to reach the hotel. I was barely able to process the synopsis of the upcoming events that Jorge was sharing with us. All I could think about was getting to the hotel and sleeping.

We pulled up to the lobby of the Hilton Colón in downtown Quito. It was a very modern, beautiful, five star, high-rise hotel. Quite impressive! However, what really caught my attention was the enormous, and I mean enormous, bouquet of roses I had ever seen. Gorgeous pink roses, there must have been at least a hundred or more in this single bouquet. It sat in the middle of the lobby, on a dark brown, round mahogany table. The color of the table enhanced the various pink hues of said roses. The bouquet must have stood close to 3 feet tall with a circumference of at least 3 feet. After admiring the roses for another few minutes, I checked in, went straight to my room, and slept for 3 hours.

Feeling refreshed I decided to go check out the hotel. I was looking for the bulletin board for EcuaTours so that I could see what information might be posted. I knew that the tour was scheduled to begin at 8:00 am tomorrow. I found the board and it read: Luggage out at 6:30 am, Breakfast 7:00 am, Meet in the lobby at 7:45, Depart at 8:00 am. I took a picture to the bulletin board and continued my exploration of the hotel. First, I walked round the main floor and came across the restaurant where breakfast would be served the next morning. I decided that I would eat dinner there in a couple hours. I then exited the side door and found myself on a busy boulevard. City noises filled my ears! The roar of traffic, sirens, horns honking, music playing, and people talking. The smells of fresh baked bread, grilled meat, onions, and pizza fought for entry to my nasal passages. They were all winners because I smelled every aroma at once. Stores and businesses of every type lined both sides of the street. I chose to walk down one side then come back up on the other.

As I walked, I felt a chill in the breeze. I was glad that I had thought to put my windbreaker on before I left the hotel. I am not accustomed to the cold.

After having lived in California all my life and having worked in the same field for 27 years I decided to sell everything I owned and retire to Costa Rica. I have lived there for the past 2 and a half years. I have grown accustomed to 75-degree weather year round. The 60-degree weather of Quito sent a chill deep into my bones. The other thing that I noticed was the elevation or maybe I should say the lack of oxygen. Quito sits at almost 10,000 ft in elevation. In the short time I have been here I noticed that I had to breathe a little deeper and a little more often and I got winded easily.

My stroll down and then back up the boulevard was very entertaining. Window-shopping at the various shops, restaurants, stores, and bakeries ate up time fast. I eventually made it back to the hotel and into my room. I had purchased a couple of beverages, one for now and one for later. I stood at my fifth story window and gazed down at the park across the street. I could see street vendors selling their wares, couples walking hand in hand, and children riding their bikes. It reminded me of something Norman Rockwell would have painted.

As I stood there, I realized that my stomach was telling me that I was hungry. I went down to the main floor and entered the restaurant I had seen earlier. No one was there. No one was eating. I stood at the entrance and looked around the elegantly decorated room. Several tables were dressed in white linen table clothes. Crystal wine and water glasses, cloth napkins, silverware, and plates were strategically placed on forest-green placemats. Wow, fancy! I said to myself as I stepped down into the dining area. I walked over to one of the smaller tables near a window and sat down. I barely had time to position myself when a waiter appeared out of thin air. He greeted me, gave me a menu, and filled my water glass all in one swift movement.

I looked over the menu and said to myself, I am in Ecuador! I want to try Ecuadorian food. Something I have never tried before. I decided on the Churrasco. I read the description, but still was not sure what it was. I ordered it anyway. Approximately 15 minutes later the waiter approached and placed my dinner in front of me. Churrasco: a large, perfectly prepared sirloin steak, topped with grilled peppers and a fried egg. White rice and French fries accompanied the Churrasco. A dinner salad of lettuce, onions, tomato, and avocado came on its own plate. I took a bite of the steak, delicious, superb! I noticed a little, shallow, silver dish sitting near my water glass. It looked like some type of salsa. Then I remembered that I had read about Ají. Ají is a traditional salsa served in Ecuador. I am a connoisseur of salsas. I especially like the spicy stuff! I put some ají on a piece of steak and tasted it. Heaven! Oh, my goodness! It was that and more! I would move here in a heartbeat just to have this salsa! I said to myself. I wanted to drink the stuff! It was that good!

Ají is made with tree tomatoes, which I had never heard of before, they happen to be one of Ecuador’s major crops, onions, ají chiles, cilantro, lime juice and a dash of salt. This is then liquified in a blender. Throughout dinner I must have asked for more ají at least three times. I smothered my steak with it. I poured it on my rice and French fries. I used it as a salad dressing. There were no limits! I was ready to burst, yet I did not want to waste the ají! I finally pushed myself back from the table and slowly ambled over to the elevators. I depressed button five and headed up to my room. I was full and now the lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with me.

June 16

I woke up at 5:00 am revitalized and excited! I am in Ecuador and the adventure was about to begin! I hurried to shower and dress, I put my luggage out, and went to have breakfast. I managed to get all that accomplished by 7:30am. I went down to the lobby to see what was going on. I saw a young man wearing a t-shirt with the EcuaTour logo on it standing not too far from the giant bouquet of pink roses that I had seen the day before. I admired the roses again. I actually asked one of the passing hotel employees to take a picture of me standing near it. Having done that, I walked towards the EcuaTour guy. I noticed that it was the same guy who had picked me up at the airport. He was handing out plastic name tag holders, name tags, and lanyards with the EcuaTour name embossed on them.

There was a group of about 25 people standing around him. I surmised that they were my fellow travelers. I moved in and collected one of each item. I wrote my name on the card, placed the card in the plastic holder, attached the holder to the lanyard and placed it around my neck. I turned and saw a stack of suitcases and backpacks piled near the door. I did a quick survey and saw my own suitcase mingled in with all the others. Good I said to myself. Just then a couple of bellboys started carrying the bags to the bus that was parked outside the lobby door.

Everyone! May I have your attention? Please step closer. I have a couple of announcements. My name is Jorge and I am your tour guide. Welcome to Ecuador! We will be boarding the bus shortly. Our first stop will be the historical center of Quito. Please make sure that you have a name tag and a lanyard. Does anyone have any questions? No one did so Jorge said, You can now make your way to the bus.

I was looking at the other passengers, trying to decide who was with whom and how many there were, 27 total. Singles, couples, triples, and families. This is going to be fun. I whispered to myself as I stepped onto the bus. Everyone found their seats. Jorge boarded the bus and the last one to show up was the driver. Jorge announced, Everyone, this is Carlos. He will be our driver for the next 6 days. In unison I heard, Buenos Dias, Carlos! Even though I chimed in with them, I did not look up from my phone to actually see whom I was saying Buenos Dias to. I had taken a seat on the right hand side of the bus, about four rows back. I was staring out the window while Jorge was speaking via microphone enlightening us as the history of Quito. We drove through the narrow cobblestoned streets of old Quito and came to rest in front of the Basílica del Voto Nacional. It is the largest neo-Gothic basilica in the Americas. The groundbreaking was in 1892. It was consecrated in 1988. It has not yet been completed. Local legend says that when the Basilica is finished, the world would end. Therefore, no one is in particular hurry to finish it. In lieu of typical gargoyles that can be found on other Gothic architecture, on this church the gargoyles depict native Ecuadorian animals such as armadillos, iguana, jaguars, and Galapagos tortoises. The massiveness of this Basilica was ominous!

I sat restlessly, as Jorge gave us some background history. I was anxious to get off the bus because I could see some indigenous women dressed in their traditional clothing selling scarves and shawls to the passing tourists. I wanted to go get a closer look. After what seemed like an eternity it was time to exit the bus.

As I neared the door, I noticed that the driver, Carlos, was standing at the bottom of the steps offering his hand to the women as they alighted from the bus. I had not seen him prior to this. I drew closer and I saw that Carlos had a beautiful bright smile. His receding hairline gave way to curly brown hair, sprinkled with a bit of gray, that wrapped around the back of his head from ear to ear. It was my turn to step down. I reached for his out-stretched hand and as our hands touched, I was looking directly into the most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen! I felt the warmth of his hand and the softness of his skin. We looked into each other’s eyes and I literally felt a lightning bolt charge through my body. I did not want to move! I could not move! Hesitantly, I stepped down onto the sidewalk and let loose of his hand. In doing so I noticed that he was a good five to six inches taller than me and he had a thin muscular build. But it was his captivating blue eyes that contrasted with his creamy dark skin that really stood out. I took a few steps away from the bus trying to figure out what had just happened. I looked down at my hand, it was still tingling, and then I looked back towards the bus.

The spell was broken when I turned and looked at the Basilica. I was in awe! It was magnificent! As I was snapping pictures, I noticed the indigenous women. I turned my attention to them. One of the women had on a dark pink shirt, a black skirt, black stockings, black shoes, and an aqua crocheted shawl. She was of short stature, dark-skinned and had a long, thick braid of black, black hair. On her head was a black bolero type hat, and in her arms, she is holding a stack of at least 20 colorful woven scarves. She was working the crowd of tourist trying to sell her wares. The other woman that I noticed was dressed similarly to the first. The difference was the the second woman, dressed in all black, was wearing a bright orange crocheted shawl. She too had several scarves in her arms. These scarves were beautiful and were being sold for $5.00 a piece. I was contemplating buying one when I heard Jorge call out to the group. Time to go.

I changed directions and ambled towards the bus. I was hoping that Carlos would be there, but he was not. He did not board the bus until I was already seated. I could not really see him from my seat because the seats were a few steps higher than where the driver sat. Next stop the Presidential Palace and Independence Plaza. All I could think about was getting off the bus again so that I could touch Carlos’ hand. I wanted to see if I would feel the same thunderbolt. I wanted to be the first off the bus, but I was not. I reached for his hand, he smiled, I smiled back and BAM! I felt it again! Wow! Craziness! What is this?! I continued to walk away from the bus as the rest of the group exited, and then the bus drove away.

All 27 of us followed Jorge like ducklings follow their mama. For the next hour we embarked on a walking tour through the Presidential Palace and Independence Plaza. The Presidential Palace was a long, two-story colonial style building. It stood along one side of Independence Plaza. In the center of the Plaza there was a statue commemorating the independence of Ecuador. On top of the statue stood a lady like Lady Liberty, further on down the statue there was a condor, and at the bottom there was a lion walking away from the statue. I was only half listening to the history being given by Jorge. I got distracted by the doves that were strolling in the nearby gardens, the police officers scooting about on Segways, and by this guy who was selling various products made from coca leaves. The labeling claimed that these candies, creams, sprays, and teas would relieve altitude sickness. I bought some of the candies as a souvenir. I was in fact suffering from some sort of altitude related sickness. I noticed that the night before I had a bad headache. I was told that that was caused by the altitude. I would suffer from this for the next three days.

Time to go back to the bus! Yay! While off the bus I was able to forget about Carlos, but on the bus, he was all I could think about. I wanted to get off the bus so that I could feel his hand on my hand. Our next stop was Mitad del Mundo. The Middle of the World Monument. This is located at latitude 0 degrees. You can stand with one foot in the Northern Hemisphere and one foot in the Southern Hemisphere. I was excited to be going there. I had read about it and was anxious to finally experience it.

Getting off the bus again! Carlos was giving a helping hand, as was now his habit. My turn! My heart was palpitating! This time he not only held my hand to help me down, but he also put his other hand on top of my hand. He is now touching me with both hands! I stood there looking at him for an extra second. I turned away from his gaze and walked on.

During our two-hour visit to Mitad del Mundo, Jorge mentioned that this would also be our lunch break. His suggested a couple restaurants and told us where the bus would be located and what time we needed to be back on the bus. I walked around the park-like setting, littered with dozens of souvenir shops and restaurants, taking it all in. I took pictures of my feet, one on each side of the 0-degree latitude. I bought a couple of T-shirts, always good gifts. I decided that I was hungry! I went to hunt for one of the restaurants that Jorge had recommended.

After having found one of them, I walked in and looked around. Sitting at a long table just inside the door was the Miller family. The Millers were a family of six. The patriarch was about 65 years old. He was traveling with his daughter, son-in-law, and three grandsons. They came from Canada and this was their first time in Ecuador. Further back, I saw that Jorge and Carlos were seated at a table enjoying their lunch. Behind their table and a little to the left was an empty one so I sat down. Both Jorge and Carlos had their backs to me. I looked over at Carlos and wondered if he felt the same thing I did when he touched my hand.

An older gentleman came up to me holding a menu. I smiled as I took it from his hand. I ended up ordering Fritada. The fritada consisted of fried pork (chancho), giant, boiled corn kernels (mote), the mote was sprinkled with small, fried corn kernels (tostados), a potato patty (llapingacho) the patty is made of mashed potatoes, spices, and cheese, it is then sautéed in butter. A spoonful of mixed vegetables (broccoli, carrots, and peas) were placed next to a perfectly ripened, quarter avocado, the other side of the plate was garnished with a long strip of fried plantain. The most important part of this meal was the small dish of ají. I guess I was totally engrossed in my meal because when I looked up, both Jorge and Carlos were gone. Halfway through my delicious meal I checked the time and discovered that it was almost time to return to the bus. I took couple more bites of food, paid my billed and left to find the bus.

No one was there yet. I sat down on the curb and waited. When I looked towards the bus, I saw that someone was in it. I started to get up to go see who it was when Carlos stepped down and out. We were standing a few feet apart from each other. We smiled and said Hi. There was an awkward silence. I started making small talk. I mentioned the weather, the time, my lunch, and Carlos gave me one-word phrases. I even went as far as to ask him about his heritage. Where do your blue eyes come from? I asked and his answer was, De mí papá. Because of the way he answered my questions I was thinking that maybe he was not interested in me. He doesn’t even want to talk to me. I thought to myself. I was feeling uncomfortable. I walked away and went back and sat on the curb. A short time later the group started showing up, we boarded the bus and headed towards our next destination.

Otavalo, is a town located in the highlands of the Andes. It is in the Imbabura province of northern Ecuador. It is known for its Plaza de Ponchos. The town is inhabited by indigenous people who dress in their traditional clothing and sell handicrafts and textiles. This is where we were headed. The day was waning on and I was getting tired. We would be visiting the Plaza de Ponchos tomorrow.

At about 4:30pm we pulled up to our hotel, Cabañas del Lago. Set on the shore of a large lake, the hotel was spectacular! The cabins were built using rustic logs with a western flare. Each one was adorned with a wrap-around porch, chairs, and flower boxes. The inside of these cabins were knotty-pine and they reminded me of the old west. My cabin had a fireplace, a queen-sized bed, and a large sofa sectional. In spite of looking cozy, it was very cold. The sun had dropped and being at just over 8,000 ft in elevation, it was downright cold! We had enough time to retrieve our luggage, check in, and settle into our rooms, before dinner. After dinner, some locals put on a presentation for us. After, we were given some history about the Otavaleños.

As we all sat around watching the presentation I began to think about Carlos. Why did I feel the way I did when our hands touched? Did he feel the same rush as I did? Who is he? I wanted to know more about him. I wondered where he was and what he was doing. Finally, the presentation was over. Time to go to our rooms. We had an early day tomorrow. The group left as a whole and we each peeled off as we reached our respective rooms. As I neared my room, I smelled the aroma of burning wood, and as I opened my door, I felt a comforting warmth mingled with the smell of burning pine. The room’s fireplace had been filled with logs and was lit. The fire was mesmerizing. The flames licking around the logs, the colors, the crackling, the warmth, were all hypnotizing. The cold stayed outside, and yet there was a chill despite the fire. I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. To my surprise, my bed was already warm. What? I felt about with my feet and I found a hot, hot water bottle at the foot of my bed. I pulled it up with my feet and held it against my stomach. I quickly fell asleep.

June 17

I woke up early in anticipation for what lay ahead. As I readied myself for a shower I noticed something in the corner of my room near the bathroom door. I stepped closer, bending over slightly, I gave the corner a second look. There, stretched out, was a grayish-black, hairy scorpion. It was for sure at least two inches long and it was on its hind legs trying to scale up the baseboard. I knelt down to get a closer look. Is it dead? I asked myself. I got a bit closer and snapped some really good close up pictures. That done, I continued with my shower. As I was getting dressed, I suddenly remembered the scorpion! I glanced over to where it had been, and it was gone! What? I guess it wasn’t dead. Where is it? I started looking around the general area. I was hoping that it hadn’t wandered into my suitcase. I gave it another few minutes of thought and then continued readying myself. I had about 15 minutes before breakfast.

We’re off to the Otavalo Market! I was excited about getting there, however, I was even more excited about getting off the bus again. That meant that I got to touch Carlos’ hand. Sure enough, there it was! That same current coursing through my veins. Sure enough, he put his other hand on top again. His hands were so soft and warm. Maybe I could prolong this, and no one would notice. I couldn’t help but gaze into his beautiful blue eyes for an extra second. Is he feeling what I am feeling? Is his heart pounding like mine is? I am so glad that no one could read my thoughts.

The Plaza de Ponchos was smaller than I had expected. It was in the center of town, a mere quarter block squared. Textiles and handicrafts galore!

There was so much to see, so much to buy! Blankets, shawls, jackets, purses, tablecloths, table runners, slippers, belts, paintings, jewelry, llamas and guinea pigs made from alpaca, tons and tons of stuff! I have the tendency to get overwhelmed when presented with too many options. I ended up buying nothing! Couldn’t decide what I wanted. I suddenly felt hungry, so I left the market and went in search of some food. The aroma of freshly baked bread led me to the front door of a small bakery. The main product in this bakery were empanadas. I had read about the empanadas before my trip and one particular empanada that I wanted to try was the Empanada de Viento. This empanada was fluffy, fried and hollow except for a tiny bit of grated cheese. The outside was sprinkled with sugar. There they were! Fresh and hot! I asked for two. I could have eaten a lot more than that, but I displayed will power. I took my empanadas and the drink I had purchased and went to find a place to sit so that I could enjoy my snack.

The only place I could find to sit was on some steps leading into a pharmacy on a street corner. I scooted way over as to not block the entrance and began to eat my empanadas. As I ate, I people watched. To my right, and across the street, I noticed a florist shop. There must have been close to twenty Otavaleños standing in the doorway. Looking around I guessed that they were possibly heading for a funeral, as they kept bringing bouquets and sprays of flowers from the florist shop. I saw at least four separate vehicles pull up one after another and they were loaded up with said flowers.

The men standing in front of the shop were all dressed in white pants, white shirts, white sandals, navy-blue woven ponchos, and all had a hat on their head. Some hats were black, and some were white. The other thing that all the men had in common was that they all had long braids. Some braids were black, some were white, and some were salt and pepper. Depending on the age of the person. The women were all dressed in black skirts, white blouses, black sandals, and a black wrap-around shawl. There were no hats worn by the women. Not sure if this was funeral attire or traditional apparel. I’m always in awe when I get to experience new cultures.

I pulled my phone out to check the time. I still had some time left before I had to report to the bus. However, I decided to head that way. I wanted to use the facilities and be on the bus early. I walked the few blocks to the where the bus was parked. Seeing it caused me to think about Carlos again. What is it about him? Why does my heart skip a beat just thinking about him? I asked myself these questions every time I saw him or thought about him. I rounded the corner and there he was, standing near the bus and the entrance to the bathrooms. My heart started pounding on its own accord as I walked closer. I quickly jetted into the restroom and caught my breath. I didn’t see him when I came out and I hastily jumped onto the bus. I sat in my seat and looked to see if I could see him. There he was! I watched him from the bus, certain that he could not see me. He was smiling and talking to a group of men. He has such a beautiful smile! I stated to myself. I saw his eyes move in my direction and I flinched. Did he see me? Will he come over here and talk to me? Does