What a great day Monday was! Two major accomplishments were the order of the day as we successfully navigated our way directly to Dale and Janet’s house in Guayaquil and we all managed to get our new censos. OK, I know that this doesn’t sound like a lot but by the end of the day we were all heaving sighs of relief and nobody more so than Kelly and I.
As opposed to Sunday morning our little Vitara had started at the first ask and we had left the camp at 6:30am. Despite this success after the previous day’s exertions, I was worried. We were aiming to be at Dale and Janet’s house by 8:00am and I only had the vaguest idea of how to get there. It has been 10 and a half years since we lived in Ecuador and even then we had only travelled the road from Guayaquil to Playas twice. Once in a bus and once when 8 of us and our luggage squeezed into a tiny Chevy Sprint. On neither occasion was I really paying that much attention as to how to get there and back as at that time we had no vehicle of our own. Furthermore, when we had driven out to Playas with Dale on Wednesday evening the route to the beach had not been my first priority as I had been trying hard to avoid being side-swiped by an aggressive taxi-driver or totaled by a wayward bus. To complicate things the sun had been setting fast when we made that trip and we had been travelling in total darkness long before we arrived at the camp. Dale had also planned to draw me a map but somehow in the excitement of them leaving we had forgotten to see that through. So here we were setting out on that same road and hoping to navigate the various twists, turns and intersections in order to arrive safely in Guayaqul and not in Quito or Cuenca or some other corner of the country.
Here’s what I knew. I knew that if I went back into Playas to the main intersection and carried on straight we would be on the road to Guayaquil. I knew that at some point we had to get off the beach road and on to the Via Perimtral and from there come off at the Via Daule. Once on the Via Daule, I knew that I would be able to find El Caracol, where Dale and Janet live. In Canada this kind of trip would not be difficult as you would simply look up a road map and plan your route the night before or drive with one eye on the road and one eye on a map, which of course I would be very unlikely to do. Unfortunately road maps in Ecuador are few and far between. I know because I have something of a map fetish and I had looked high and low for a map 10 years ago with absolutely no success whatsoever.
If you are without a road map in Canada you can always fall back on a road sign. Unfortunately road signs in Ecuador are thin on the ground and don’t always seem to be very helpful. For example Dale had told me that I needed to take the “Via Daule” exit and not the “To Via Daule” exit which I should see first. This seemed like a very fine distinction and didn’t seem to make a lot of sense to me but I was prepared to defer to his vast wealth of knowledge and driving experience. After all he had been a truck driver prior to being a missionary; surely he knew what he was talking about.
We found our way to the aforementioned main intersection and found the road to Guayaquil without incident. There we stopped to gas up. I had half a tank of gas which I figured should be more than enough to reach Guayaquil under normal circumstances but I was not planning for normal circumstances but rather for the abnormal. While there, I stalled for time by asking the young fellow pumping gas what you called a gas station in Spanish. “Gasolinera” he replied helpfully. This was not entirely idle chit-chat because I had a deep seated fear that I might be asking someone for the nearest gasolinera before the day was out.
Having run out of things to ask the puzzled young man, I jumped back in the car and we headed off once more, with me wondering whether or not I should have tipped the young guy. It was then that I had a stroke of genius and suggested to Kelly that we could simply follow the big blue bus ahead of us as it was obviously one of the regular buses between Guayaquil and Posorja, a town a few kilometers past Playas. This hope faded almost as quickly as the bus faded into the distance. I am sure that most Ecuadorian bus-drivers could make an easy transition to the world of NASCAR.
It was then that another brilliant idea lit up my one coffee morning. “We could always hire a taxi-driver to lead us there and we could follow him,” I suggested, “You know, just like they do on the Amazing Race.” I knew that it was a dumb idea as soon as the words were out of my mouth but it had seemed like a great idea in my head. “I thought that you said you know the way!” retorted Kelly. It was then I more or less ‘fessed up. “Yeah, I think I can get us there, but I am not sure,” I said somewhat unconvincingly. “But if we have a big problem, we could always try for a taxi driver,” I persisted.
We passed Progreso or “piggy town” as Dale’s kids like to call it and managed not to take the road to Salinas which, after all, would have taken us west when we needed to go North East. Incidentally, I think that Dale’s kids are on to something here. I definitely prefer the name “piggy town” as the main street is absolutely crawling with apparently aimlessly wandering pigs and progress is something that there does not seem to be a lot of in this little town.
It was around this time that Dale called us to see how we were doing. This was comforting as we now knew that if we got hopelessly lost we would at least be able to contact him even if we had no way of describing to him where we were. “Tell Dale to stay close to his phone,” I suggested, tight lipped.
Once we got past Progreso the road widened out to two lanes both ways and we were reminded just how much progress this country has made. This highway was recently built and would put many a Canadian highway to shame. It is smooth, well designed and sign-posted, with constant reminders to buckle up and not to drink and drive. The centre median is full of beautiful trees, shrubs and flowering bushes all the way to Guayaquil, a distance of more than 50 kilomtres. In the daylight we could see what we had missed in the darkness of Wednesday night. On both sides of the highway the country stretched out in a mixture of scrub, bananas and ranches. Other than the first few miles close to the beach where the land is almost desert-like the country was much greener than we thought it would be at this time of year. The only disappointment was the huge amount of garbage strewn along the edges of the road.
As we got closer to Guayaquil the level of traffic began to increase, as did my heartbeat. All I needed was to find the exit for the Via Perimtral, surely it would be well signposted. Suddenly there it was. “How will you know which direction to take?” asked Kelly with good reason. “Easy,” I replied … “We just have to go north.” “Yes, but how do you know which way is north?” “Well, the sun rises in the east and sinks in the west so at this time of day it should be more or less to the south-east. So if the sun is more or less to our right as I think it is then we should turn left on to the Via Perimtral” I answered confidently. “It’s too hazy to see the sun,” she replied unhelpfully.
Ignoring the concerns of my beloved wife and using my instinctive sense of direction as much as cold logic I turned left on the Via Perimtral and headed north. Immediately I began to recognize the general layout of the hills and knew that we were on the way. There is a large hill on the edge of this part of the city that is covered in antennas and dishes and is instantly recognizable and I could see it now off to our left. So now all we needed was to pass “To Via Daule” and wait for “Via Daule,” except that, after a few minutes, there was “Via Daule.” “What happened to “To Via Daule?” I cried ‘Did we pass it already?” “Did you notice?” If not quite panic-stricken, I was concerned. I had visions of having to try to get off this highway and negotiate a maze of one way streets before I could turn back on and head back south. “I didn’t see it!” “I didn’t see it!” cried Kelly somewhat defensively. “I’m taking this one!” I decided. “Are you sure?” asked Kelly. “No, I’m not,” I said. “But we are so close surely we could ask someone or call Dale to come find us if I am wrong.”
Suddenly there it was – the Via Daule stretched out before us in all its chaos, congestion and confusion. As we approached it I knew that we had taken the wrong exit but it didn’t matter, I recognized where we were and knew we were only a few hundred yards south of Dale’s house. We would not have to make any embarrassing calls for help. A swing through the traffic lights to the left a few hundred yards up past their house until I could do a U-turn was all that was needed. The school was there on the right, followed by the church, all of this was familiar territory and a sight for sore eyes.
We made the U-turn, pulled up to the gates of the guarded “El Caracol,” where the guard asked who we wanted to see. “The Canadian Family,” I said, feeling confident that there could not be any others in this neighbourhood. “I need to see some identification,” he said. He wasn’t satisfied with anything less than my passport which he decided he was going to keep until we left, but it didn’t matter we had made it!
The rest of the day was comparatively easy for us, though not for Nikki Horne. We all got our “censos,” or ID cards at the “Departmento de Migracion.” Nikki had some hoops to jump through but that is her story to tell. For us it was a simple matter of showing the official the necessary documentation, getting our mug-shots taken and paying the $4 each. Oh yes! It did take us most of the rest of the morning to get the necessary papers e-mailed to us from Lloyd Rogers in Quito, but those are just details. The big news is that we made it to Guayaquil by ourselves and back again to Playas by 8pm that evening! It had been a long day but an immensely satisfying one.
Verse For The Day:
Proverbs 3:5,6
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.’
I guess I always thought of this as referring to choices that we make in life and I am sure that theologically that is what this verse is saying. If we trust the Lord and walk with Him, he will keep us on the right path. Today however, as I look back to our trip to Guayaquil, I am confident that He kept us on the right road even when we were not entirely sure which roads to take.
The Main Road Between Playas and Guayaquil
A Cute Little House and Business Along The Way
A Reminder that driving in Ecuador can be dangerous
The Hill With All the Antennas On It
Looking East Over Guayaquil
You Never Know What Kind of Driver You Will Encounter!
1 comment:
I am really enjoying all the neat pictures and updates. The highways really look like they are in good shape. The last picture is quite interesting. Is that transport ahead of the bus going to cross over the median? If so is that legal there?
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