A Lucky Day

Yesterday we set out with a native tour agency to see artisans working in their villages. We saw a l2 year old girl on the floor making rattan mats by hand and tried the process ourselves (without much luck). We were in her one room home and the guinea pig pen was inside where they were fattening them up for the next important fiesta. We then came upon a wedding and later saw two more in other indigenous villages. At one wedding there was a formal mariachi band and outside a group of friends playing Andean pan pipes and flute. At the 3rd wedding, lovely young women were outside the church doing special folk dances.

At the weaving village we went a bit berserk, not intending to buy a thing, bringing no money or cards, but ending up with a big rug and alpaca sweater. The woman trusted us to take them and give the money to the guide back in Otavalo to take to her on his next trip. So now we are wondering how on earth we are going to tote this thing around. We are going to have to pare down from necessities to bare minimum. Lots of stuff will have to go and I have already jettisoned the Sp. Eng. dictionary. Fortunately for you all , the ants are in small containers and you will not miss the opportunity to try them.

On to the Condor Park where we saw some in captivity and rehabilitating. Then, all of a sudden, a wild condor appeared on top of the cage of the harpy eagle. He tried to get in the cage and was eyeing the chickens in there which were the eagle's food. After a bit, he gave up and soared off, a magnificent and rather rare sight.

We had to bag the native instrument village. Everyone had been at a fiesta the night before and they were a bit under the weather. Next stop was another volcanic crater lake that we hiked part way around. Just when we were to turn around and head back, I noticed some people up ahead off the trail and they looked like, GUESS WHAT, like they were picking berries. I insisted on pushing on and sure enough, they were picking wild blueberries. They shared some with us and showed us which ones were good to eat and which ones weren't. Of course, I was sad not to stop and be able to pick, but all turned out ok when we found a place in town called the Shenandoah Pie Shop and the lady was just taking out of the oven a wild blueberry pie. She served us up a slab a la mode and it was the perfect end to a wonderful day.