#2422: Winding Down Cuenca

Post 2422

- 9 years and 57 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written about Feb 22-Feb 27, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 10 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing it has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it that has become less frequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting (or visually appealing, or both). And that's where we find ourselves now.

I can't believe it's almost done. I have less than 48 hours left in Cuenca.

Of course, I plan to come back, but it's not scheduled. My best guess is I'll be back as early as November, but no later than January, 2021. A lot depends on how things go when I get back, and all the unforeseen and unforeseeable things that can happen between now and then.

I've spent most of this week doubling down on the things and places I like. I've also expanded my circle a little. And I've learned a little more about what it might be like to live here.

I've done some retreating this week as well. Because I try to make my stay in foreign places as close as I can get to my regular, day-to-day lifestyle, I continue doing the ordinary, everyday things here as I do back in New York, like paying attention to the stock market. I have a small investment portfolio that emphasizes dividends (income) over capital gains. This week's extreme (historic!) sell-off had an effect that demanded attention and reaction. I had to take some action, do some 'homework' and make some adjustments. It ended up making an impact on my time, since it didn't fit into my 'schedule', such as it is.

A number of the expats I've met here have left or are leaving soon. Some are 'vacationing' or touring other areas of Ecuador, some are going back home (which means the US or Canada, in all cases). All have told me it is temporary and will be returning to Cuenca. I hope to keep in touch, since one of the things I've consciously done here is cultivate other expats, since they're the trailblazers that have helped me in this exploratory visit, and I will be relying on them to make the transition easier when I come back here to live.

I really haven't done a lot I haven't written about before, so this next bit is going to be a bit shorter (I heard that cheer!), and unordered.

• I have never lived or visited any place with better weather. Even when it rains, it seems like a pleasant rain. I have never closed the windows in my hotel room, never been cold or hot this entire stay.

• What initially seemed like my arthritis (active in both knees) acting up may have been getting used to the altitude. My knees were hurting for the first week or so, but after a couple of weeks of being careful not to stress them too much, I was able to walk the approximately ten floors of stairs down and up from the Tomebamba River (which is in a gorge that cuts Cuenca in two) with no ill effect.

• I've been drinking tap water the whole time, not exclusively, but daily, and haven't been sick once.

• Many of the expats here have strategies to deal with the robbery or mugging 'problem'. A surprising (to me) number of them have been pick-pocketed or otherwise robbed. Not one has been injured, and not one that I have spoken with has decided to leave Cuenca due to this. I did hear one tell a story (second-hand information, unverified) about a friend of theirs who decided to move from Cuenca to Spain after being ripped off here. She found the problem worse in Spain, and moved back.

• Of the parts of Cuenca that I've seen, I've liked two different neighborhoods as prospects for renting an apartment.

• I've continued to find the people of Cuenca friendly, charming and helpful, both expats and native Cuencanos.

• I've been helping other gringo visitors find cool places to do things and find good food. The people who work in the places I've been hanging out the most now call me by name - another example of the friendly vibe of this town.

• One of the things I've turned some friends I've met on to is the Spanish class given by Chef Filipe of A Pedir de Boca - the restaurant I've returned to most often. My second (and last, this trip) class I had three friends join me, and they absolutely loved it! They loved the restaurant, too. Filipe is not just an amazing chef and a great teacher, he is a great example of a Cuencano who has pride in his city. He can seemingly answer any question with regards to the culture and customs - it's one of the good things about the class.

• I've made something of an accommodation with the early-for-me hours Cuenca seems to keep. Since arriving, I've only been out past midnight one time. But that is also the exact number of times I've taken advantage of my hotel's free breakfast, served between 8:00 and 10:00am. It's going to take me more than a month for me to make such a radical change in my lifestyle (getting up and out early in the morning - something I haven't done in Syracuse since I retired.

• I've still had no bigger upside surprise than the quality of the restaurants here. My downside surprise was the Carnaval celebration, which couldn't compare with my New Orleans experiences, nor what I've seen and read about in Rio de Janeiro or Buenos Aires. I am informed however that it is not Cuenca's biggest or most popular fiesta, as in those other places. The big one here comes around Christmas time.

• I bought a Panama hat. Cuenca is actually the world's largest seller of Panama hats - which are, and always have been, made in Ecuador, from Ecuadorian straw. The hat I came with, which was only a couple of months old, was fraying and so, in the Panama hat capital of the Universe, I bought a Panama hat. See the photo at top.

(I couldn't be happier with it. I have a lot of hats, a few of which are costly. This one was much less than the most expensive of those, but it is a very good, well-made hat, and the only hand-made hat I currently own.)

• I had a very good conversation with the man behind my favorite cup of coffee, Diego of Sinphonía Café. I tried a couple of different cups - French press and straight espresso, in addition to my usual choice, americano. All terrific. The ham and cheese baguette and vegetable quiche I had weren't bad at all, either.

• I went to an open mic I hadn't been to before. A very nice place, with a decent PA, and, as it turned out, good food at an excellent price. But! I was the only musician there, and one of only two people who came to perform. The other one was a young Ecuadorian actress who did dramatic readings, and a theatrical monolog, in Spanish, of course. What that meant was that I could appreciate the rhythm and inflection of her delivery, which was enough for me to enjoy!

(With no real options, I sang and accompanied myself on bass. It was as weird as you might think, but it was also kind of fun for me, and the audience, mostly Cuencanos, might have been overcompensating for their dismay, but they at least pretended to enjoy it. And kept asking for more. I told you the people here were kind.)

So, that's it. I fly to LA Sunday, to NY overnight Monday, arriving Tuesday, departing to Florida Friday. After a lot of fishing, I'll come back to Syracuse by April Fool's Day, and stay until next Winter.

Probably. If I've learned anything, it's that I cannot really predict the future. Man plans, God laughs.

Thank you for reading this far. Unless you just skipped all the reading and jumped to the end to look for the pictures. All cool with me, I hope I made it easy enough for you to find. Click HERE for the photos. The link is for the photo album:

Cuenca Feb 22-27, 2020

I'm grateful for this wonderful adventure, which has turned out so well.

Food Comment

From Kamaq Gastro, Arte y Cultura: This bad boy is the Kamaq Advanced Double Burger. which wraps its two patties, sautéed mushrooms, onions and peppers, it's fried egg and lettuce, tomato, avocado and cheese, in two potato pancakes instead of a bun. It's the first hamburger I've ever eaten with a fork and knife.

I mentioned eating a nice piece of vegetable quiche at Sinphonía Café above. Here's the photo.

 Please leave a comment when you visit my blog.
Thank you!

#2421: What a difference a week makes in Cuenca

Post 2421

- 9 years and 52 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written about Feb 16-Feb 21, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 10 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing it has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it that has become less frequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting (or visually appealing, or both). And that's where we find ourselves now.

It's been a week.

One thing that is true about me is that I'm easy to please. There's a threshold of enjoyment, and the bar isn't that high, but once breeched, I'm good. >

Cuenca breached that threshold easily. There was enthusiasm from other North Americans that had already moved here. The charm of the Cuencanos. The near-perfect weather. The culture I've not even made a good start in getting familiar with. The good music I got to hear and play. The very low cost of living. The surprisingly good food.

I collected all those positives with nary a mention of the downsides. All that was before I saw or heard about any of the negatives. This third week here, I've been exposed to the other side.

I don't think the negative opinions and experiences sum up to a good argument against living in Cuenca, but they are being taken into consideration.

In no particular order, here's some of the stuff that happened this week:

I had what I think was the best cup of coffee I ever had. At Sinfonia - Roaster and Cafeteria, I had the best cup of coffee I've had in Cuenca, or anywhere else. It was at very first taste, the best cup of coffee I've ever had.

At Sinfonia, the owner buys his choice of organic beans directly from local, Fair-Trade, organic farmers. He roasts the beans (in the store) in small batches. He is a trained barista, and so, apparently, is his staff. I think the very brief tree-to-cup time has everything to do with how amazingly flavorful and complex this cup was.

I've been drinking coffee since I was fifteen. Then, I tried to make it taste as much like coffee ice cream as I could.

When I was nineteen, I was in Pittsburgh, and met a friend who ground their own beans for coffeee. He was a super-cool guy, a partner at Free Being Records, one of the hippest record stores I ever knew of. He explained that a cup of great coffee, made well, from good beans, was no more than a penny or two more expensive than supermarket ground coffee, so could be enjoyed by anyone. Even with milk and sugar added, I could taste the difference. It made sense to me. I began buying all my coffee at Zabar's.

Seven years later I was asked, by a restaurateur I was doing some audio installation work for, to taste-test different grinds of coffee - he was trying to calibrate a new grinder.

When I said, I didn't drink coffee black, he and the chef (his wife) gave me a lecture about coffee appreciation. That's when I started drinking coffee black, and I've never gone back.

Am I boring you talking about coffee? Sorry. It was a big moment and a great experience for me, drinking that cup of delicious coffee

That was probably the high point, of the last few days, but there was other good stuff.

Another thing I found was some phenomenal Ecuadorian chocolate. Pacari. Ecuadorian chocolate is among the best in the world, but unlike coffee, the plight of cacao producers is, well, much worse. It is really hard to produce good beans. But they're doing it in Ecuador, and in the very recent past, Ecuador has developed a reputation for great chocolate.

It is. I'm enjoying some a dark chocolate with chili bar right now. Yes, I wish I could share. But, sorry.

I had a nearly-three-hour immersion Spanish class that left me feeling stupid, but I got over that pretty quickly (secret of my success: Forgive myself quickly - AKA, get over yourself), and I'm going to go back.

I had some beers in a bar (imagine that) where the owner challenged me to name a song he didn't have in his collection. He came up with Joy of Cooking's 'Closer to the Ground' and the Blue Magic's 'Sideshow' and the Stylistics' 'People Make the World Go Round' and I happily admitted defeat. Very happily. The beer was good, too.

That was where I met a guy that made an impression on me, in a negative way. After a very affable conversation about where we were from, and my questioning how he'd come to live in Cuenca, he told me how much he liked it here, but then went to great descriptive lengths concerning the fortified, walled-off ("12 effin' feet high and electric") fortress he'd built himself.

I mentally checked out. I think I understand that kind of thinking, but don't like or agree with it.

To be fair, I don't feel like I have anything to protect (freedom being just another word for nothing left to lose), and I wouldn't want to live in a place where I felt like that. But the way some people think about it, there isn't another option, which is part of the problem I have with that kind of thinking. They're trapped by their possessions. I won't be, although I'm not quite there yet.

At a restaurant called A Pedir de Boca, which is also where the immersion Spanish class was held, and is a place I really like a lot, I met with a facilitator, Isabel. A facilitator is someone who, for a fee, helps with any issues involved with relocating to Ecuador, mainly getting residency. It's a profession that sprang up when some educated Ecuadorans realized that lawyers were getting all the expat trade to get their visas, when the process didn't require an actual lawyer, just someone who knew the rules and how to work the system.

Many facilitators also serve as all-purpose concierge, and will be helpful in finding a place to live, and dealing with a lot of other aspects of moving to a new country. (Foreshadowing).

It was a very positive meeting. Isabel speaks perfect English. She came with the highest recommendation from someone whose recommendations have checked out 100% - in fact, he is a client, even after seven years here in Cuenca.

Every question I asked was met with an answer. Visa stuff, financial stuff, health insurance stuff. She boasts (and so far, no one has come forward to contradict her) a 100% success rate getting visas. And other people attest to her compassion and honesty and helpfulness.

Beyond making Isabel's acquaintance, at lunch we had Cuencano Carnaval soup, special, made once a year. I have no idea what's in it. Dozens of ingredients were easily visible in it, and it tasted amazing. One of the best soup meals I've had anywhere.

In counterpoint, my visit to what is reputedly Cuenca's best Thai restaurant was less successful. The spring rolls were wrong. Too big, too many too-thick layers of dough in the wrapping, not as many, or as correct, veggies in the filling. They weren't bad, but they weren't Thai-like. The drunken noodles with chicken that followed won't bring me back, even though the level of spice was exactly as asked for (that isn't easy anywhere).

Working with what's available and fresh is desirable, but here it means you don't have all the desired ingredients for authentic Thai. The cost was on the high-side, too, compared to what the dish would have cost in Chiang Mai. And that includes a multiple for being on the other side of the planet. It should have cost twice as much, and it cost three or four times as much.

Much better is the Kamaq Burger at the Wednesday night jam (at Kamaq Gastro Arte and Cultura), where, in addition to a really good meal (I think the young chef in the open kitchen is very talented) I had another great musical outing, got to play a lot and with some good musicians I'd played with before. I also had the luxury of a sound check that let the audience and musicians hear better what I was playing. From comments I got thaat was a good thing.

As I said, I played a lot, got a lot of love, and had a good meal. I also got turned on to another open mic, and invited to (maybe) play at one of the guys' gigs. This is good. More playing time is good.

I met an expat who doesn't seem to like Cuenca, where she's lived for a year-and-a-half, after living in many foreign countries, including ten years in China, immediately preceding her move to Cuenca. She doesn't like the food. She thinks the people are lazy. She thinks Cuenca is boring. She was interesting to talk with. She did not discuss plans to move away. I understand some of her complaints, but can't see where her attitude and experiences intersect with mine.

The difference seems to be in her ambitions and expectations. She's not retired, she's doing business here. If I were the slightest bit ambitious, if I were in any way entrepreneurial, I might feel more like her. But that's not where I am, and has little to do with where I've been on my way to now.

Instead, one of my advantages in all the travels I've done is that I travel light, in every way. I'm not looking to do a deal, I'm not hustling. I'm a lot more curious than judgmental. I may be rich compared to the residents of the places I'm checking out (not the case always - looking at you, Lisbon), but there's little more than my phone that shows it, and my phone is three models old. I don't have much, materially, to lose.

I've met one of those people that make you feel like you've always known them. He's staying at the same hotel. He's Anthony, from Connecticut. He's about eight years younger than me, heavily involved in music, and has been coming to Cuenca for years, although he still lives in New Canaan. He's had a lot of music business experience, talks about players he knows (when he saw my Steinberger, he told me a story about having to pick one up from Sam Ashe for Felix Pappalardi, a pretty famous bass player and producer (Mountain)), but I don't think he's played at professional level.

We met when he came up to the smoking terrace where i was having a puff and talking on the phone. He wanted to tell me something and ask a question.

What he wanted to tell me was that when I was talking on the terrace, talking on the phone, everybody in the hotel could hear me - some kind of weird acoustic phenomenon, since the terrace is on the roof at one side of the building. He just thought I should know that the previous night, when I was having an animated conversation around 11:30pm, I might have been keeping everyone awake.

He didn't sound angry - I think he thought it was humorous. But he introduced himself, and we talked a bit, then he got to the question: What was the restaurant where I had gotten the great fish dish he had heard me raving about on the phone last night?

A kindred soul.

Thursday, February 20th, was the beginning of Carnaval here.

I have been very happily looking forward to it. But the on-the-ground reality has been a bit disappointing.

Carnaval in Cuenca is a bit different than other Carnaval celebrations I'm familiar with, mainly New Orleans, in person, but through media, the other famous ones in Argentina, Brazil, Italy, Spain.

This Carnaval came with a warning: Don't bring your phone, or carry more money than you might use. Don't wear good clothes. Stay on the main, well-lit streets.

It turns out, Carnaval in Cuenca is not a very old tradition. The City celebration was actually started in the back-half of the twentieth century as a tourist attraction.

It became a big celebration which Cuencanos celebrate with big aerosol spray-cans of foam and water guns. And sometimes eggs. It becomes a big, loud, sloppy birthday party for 8-year olds.

Very recently, it's become complicated by world events. The Northern Andean countries have become home for hundreds of thousands of Venezuelan refugees, and, including in Cuenca, with them has come elevated levels of crime, especially property crime.

Let me be clear: I don't think all, or even most Venezuelan refugees are criminals. But their presence in poor countries - Ecuador IS a poor country - strains all systems. Turns up the heat under the pressure-cooker.
>
With the big crowds of people that attend these festivities, along with the pushing, shoving and temporary blindness with getting water and foam in your eyes, thieves and pick-pockets (always the prevalent local crime, 'way before Venezuelans) have a field day.

Last year, on the last day of Carnaval, they busted a pair of thieves with over 250 cell-phones.

I was warned by literally every expat and Cuencano I talked to in the days leading up to the Thursday night Cuenca Carnaval Kickoff (I just made up that name - it's a concert in a nearby park in El Centro). A number of them say the avoid all the areas where the celebrations are going on during Carnaval, and a few recommended I skip it, as well.

I wore what I wouldn't mind washing or, in extreme, tossing. I put a paper clip on $15, carried in my front jeans pocket. My hotel key was in the other front pocket; I walked six blocks to San Francisco Plaza, ground zero for the party.

Halfway there, I saw people coming in the other direction, flecks of foam on their clothes and in their hair. Mostly smiling. Lots of children with spray cans, sometimes unleashing their foam randomly. Sometimes just over their heads, into the air - not necessarily a good thing for those around them more than three feet tall.

Two blocks away, and the streets were lined with people selling cans of foam (really BIG cans of foam) and super-soaker water cannons. I decided to see what it was like before I bought any.

I'm not sure what I expected. I knew it would be nothing like the floats and parades of New Orleans. What it was, was a big, loud concert in a large, open plaza (see my selfie of the plaza during a non-event day - it's where the red Cuenca sculpture lives). I didn't like the music as I approached, liked it a lot less when I got in front of it, in the kill zone. I thought, this is not a healthy volume to expose children to, and the children were everywhere.

And everywhere, people sprayed people with foam. I saw signs of thrown eggs, but didn't see any thrown. I was foamed a bit, not covered, though, from hat to shoes. I don't actually know what's in the foam, but it wipes off almost like a solid, and doesn't stain, as far as i can tell after the fact.

But I wasn't entertained. There was little visual spectacle, no parade. Just blasting euro-pop, too loud, and people covered in foam wanting to cover you in foam.

I walked through the crowds in the plaza and then a couple of blocks to Parque Calderón, which was towards my hotel. I was blowing off Carnaval before the celebration was officially an hour old.

But I was wrong. People were celebrating in Parque Calderón, too. There was music, better music, but this time it was recorded music with live singers. Celebratory karaoke. Thanks, no. And, okay, foam, I get it, I'll leave it.

Humming 'Mama Told Me Not to Come' to myself, it's an early night for me. Next morning, I read about accounts of people who've had their phones and/or wallets stolen, even with precautions taken.

Next night, I've been invited to a concert at a small coffee shop on one side of Parque Calderón. I'd been there before, nice place and they support live music. As I approach, I see the street has been closed to traffic, and at the corner, almost right in front of the place, they've built a big-ass stage, where there is a very large salsa-pop show band playing really good music really loudly. I know before I get there my promised music won't be happening, and sure enough, the place is closed.

But the band is great, and standing to the left-rear of the stage, I am away from the crowds, the foam, the water and... I'm enjoying the music! I'm dancing by myself. I'm counting time to the bass-lines, and I hope I can remember some of the licks I'm hearing.

I love a good horn band, or a band with good vocals and harmonies, and this band has 'em both. The front (which I can see the back of) four - a trombone-playing lead singer and three female vocalists in traditional dresses - everybody in the band is wearing the same cowboy hat are fully choreographed, and what I can hear of every instrument says every member of this band is on.

The crowd is going crazy, too. They're yelling, fully participate in call-and-response parts (about every third song). I have no idea at all who I'm listening to, but I have to think the Cuencanos enduring, or maybe enjoying, getting coverd in foam by two giant foam cannons in their very midst, know exactly who's they're listening to.

I hang for a couple of hours, wishing that I had felt this safe and easy last night, wishing I had brought my phone (feeling very much out of harm's way) so that I could show you what I was talking about. Then I enjoy some ice cream, and head for home thinking how this more than makes up for last night.

A few hours of a few days of the year when it's better to avoid the 'fun' in El Centro don't stack up against even the three weeks I've been avoiding nothing except walking up and down more than two flights of stairs.

I can't determine, to my own satisfaction, how productively or interestingly I've spent my  time here this week, but during the course of the week I decided that, instead of pursuing the next city on my list, I'm going to come back to Cuenca, with the idea of relocating here.

I don't have a precise timetable, but when I come back, I'll bring whatever documents i need, plan on staying three months, and, if Cuenca still suits me then like it does now, apply for residency.

I think I've already articulated the reasons why: basically, the ease I sense living here would endow. High in the Andes, I sense that I could be up on Cripple Creek, if you know what I mean.

You've been pretty patient with me, so here's some thanks in the form of a small album of photos. (Click the preceding, or HERE to view).

I'm grateful for all my experiences, and for the amazing life that somehow got me to right here, right now.

Food Comment

This is a picture of the best cup of coffee I've ever had. The ultimate americano, thanks to Sinfonia - Tostadoria y Cafeteria.

Pasta Mariscados and a salad - incredibly good food (seriously one of the best fish dinners I'be ever eaten) at the Argentine restaurant, La Esquina. So. Much. Seafood: Clams, mussels, langoustine, crab, octopus, sea bass, scallops. Oh, my!

Excellent hueves rancheros and blackberry juice from Cafe de Nucallacta. Coffee recently dethroned as my favorite in Cuenca - but still very good.

Carnaval soup from a Pedir de Boca. What's in it? I think, everything, except for eggs (but I don't know). The protein was pork and chicken, although it was available in a vegetarian version. Amazingly complex, an absolutely spectacular meal.

 Please leave a comment when you visit my blog.
Thank you!

#2420: Special Valentine's Day in Cuenca Supplement

Post 2420

- 9 years and 46 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written about Feb 13-Feb 15, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 9 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

This is a special supplemental, earlier-than-anticipated posting.

The day after I posted the previous blog, I had the am-I-getting-old realization that I had left out an important point, for no good reason, and I wanted to make that point.

I also had a couple of experiences since that I wanted to say something about and/or show you pictures of.

So, to the point: I haven't yet 'cracked' the music scene in Cuenca, although I've made about as much progress I had at at this point of my first trip to Chiang Mai, and that turned out well.

But I have played. And I've met musicians - so far, only a few. But the quality of the music that I've heard has been, for the most part, very good. Not in every case, but a good majority of the time, the musicians have been good. All the ones I've jammed with have been. 

And I've been to some nice clubs, nice places to play. At the Wednesday night jam, which I went to last Wednesday for the second time, I saw some real talent, talent that would have been welcome at any open mic I've played at, anywhere.

And, like in Chiang Mai, it isn't only expats - although for me, expats are the gatekeepers: That's how I'm going to get into the scene, because, to be honest, I can't guarantee that I'll ever be fluent in Spanish, although I regard being able to speak Spanish as a necessity.

A lot of English is spoken here in Cuenca, but a lot of the Cuencanos I see speak Spanish, and many also speak an indigenous language, but not English. But some of the long-term expat musicians are friends with some of the Ecuadorian musicians, and that's how you get to meet them.

I have played also at a one-off open mic that, if it can solve its sound problems may become weekly, but that may not happen this visit. Even with its problems, there were some very interesting players, and I got to do a bit on bass, as well as some of my singing-gutarist stuff.

My impression of the music scene here is already favorable, if only based on the street music I've encountered. There seem to also be a lot of Ecuadorian singing guitarists, who make the rounds of the restaurants both at lunch and dinner.

And there are buskers, although nothing I've heard (outside of thinking I was listening to a nice folk song only to realize it was a poor version of a pop song) has stopped me in my tracks like what happens in New Orleans, which, to me, is the best place in the world for street music. But the fact that it's here is encouraging.


I went to my first show at the Jazz Society Café, and it was a good one. It featured the 'International Jazz Band' which I think is actually the name the piano-playing leader Jim Gala gives to any group where he expands his trio. Jim is excellent on the keys, and his rhythm section was great. The added flute and singer were, in my opinion, not quite in that league, although there was nothing wrong with either of them.

The Jazz Society Café is upstairs from an Italian restaurant, and that's where the food comes from, and it was pretty good. I had a salad with tuna and eggplant parmesan, both of which were well done.

At the break, I spoke with Jim, who is from Rochester, NY. He's been in Cuenca for seven years, and is yet another enthusiast of the city. He actually used the word, 'perfect'.

So far, the music scene here is on the positive side of neutral for me, and I'm just starting. Something else I like about Cuenca.

Segue.

Valentine's Day was yesterday, and in the afternoon and early evening, it seemed like almost everybody - both women and men - were walking around town with flowers in their hands.

I had another good lunch at A Pedir de Boca, and the chef came out and gave me a guide to a walking tour of Cuenca' s ceramics, which he said were the best in the world. He also offered free Spanish lessons next week. He also introduced the waiter as his girlfriend, but my Spanish isn't good. Maybe his lessons will help.

As I left, walking up the block towards my hotel, I ran into Sofía, the owner of Sofy Glocal Cuisine, who I had met when I ate there a few days ago. She remembered me and gave me a big 'Hello'. I told her I had planned to eat there that night. She said it would be good for Valentine's Day. I told her I had no Valentine, so it would have to be her. She laughed and squeezed my arm, and we went on our ways, in opposite directions.

The restaurant was packed, but I didn't have to wait long. While I was waiting, Sofía brought me a glass of champagne with a black orchid in it, and wished me a "Happy San Valentin".

While I ate, I was serenaded by a series of Ecuadorian singing guitarists. The food was good. The night was lovely. Dinner over, I went to Common Grounds, one of the two best known gringo bars in Cuenca.

They do Karaoke on Friday nights. In general, I don't like karaoke, but there have been specific ones that I've enjoyed. Common Grounds' one was a lot of fun last week, when I went there for the first time. Why? Because while not everybody who sang had a great voice - some really did - the song selection was great. Less same-songs-all-the-time stuff, and more deep tracks.

And, as has been the case everywhere I've been here so far, it's a very friendly place.

Tonight there's a big crowd, and I only do two songs ('Wicked Games' and 'Is She Really Going Out With HIm').

Saturday is low-key. I have an early breakfast at the Sunshine Café, the first place I ate in Cuenca, rejoining Richard, who was so immediately helpful that first day, and Vince, who I bonded with then over the group Poco, who he worked with in their early days. I met two couples, both of whom have just moved to Cuenca. One couple is house-hunting, the other has a place and is waiting for a container that has all the stuff they're bringing. 

Stories are told, breakfast is given a proper appreciation, and the time goes by quickly. Suddenly it's after noon, we say our goodbyes to each other, other diners, and the staff (it's how you do in Cuenca).

I make the ten-minute walk to sit on a park bench at Parque Calderón. I'm there just to people-watch, think my random thoughts, and appreciate the day and the place. Before I know it, I've been there a couple of hours.

It's so nice I decide to go back after dinner. 

But for now, I think it is time to actually go inside and check out the symbol of Cuenca, the three-blue-domed 'New Cathedral', which is actually an old cathedral, Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción, that took two hundred years of on-again, off-again construction to complete. Parts of it go back to the late 18th Century, but it was finally completed near the end of the 20th! 

The scale of the New Cathedral is breathtaking. Having been in some 'destination' churches and Cathedrals in Europe, and some enormous and gorgeous Buddhist temples in Thailand, as well as some famous big ones in the US, I can say this is easily the biggest house of worship I've ever been in.

It is not just impressive in size - it is quite beautiful within. There are actually six side-altars (three on each side) which are large enough on their own to be the focus of any church. The main altar is comparatively and suitably magnificent. There are pics in the album linked below. Or, if you can't wait, here they are in their own album.

Sunset is around 6:30pm every day (and I mean every day of the year - we're only 200 miles south of the equator, total daylight variation throughout the year is less than plus or minus eight minutes). 

It is 9:30, well after dark, when I go to buy some really good ice cream, two scoops (coffee and coconut), at the old-fashioned ice cream parlor across the street from the park.

I take my cup of joy into the park to enjoy it, and reflect that this is something I could do here year-round; but it dawns on me that there is something special about me being here, in the center of town, on a mild night, sitting in a park eating ice cream. Right here, right now. It feels good, safe, easy. Carefree, I am filled with gratitude for this moment.

Here's the photo album that accompanies this blog. To view it, click here.

Food Comment

At Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Shrimp Encava, with coconut vegetable sauce and quinoa.

Valentine's Day dessert at Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Red velvet cake with raspberry glacé.

From the wonderful Sunrise Café, where they cater to gringos, and everybody speaks English, a Boulder Omelet (lots of veggies and cheddar and asiago cheese) with vegetable hash and a biscuit. This was really, really good.

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Thank you!

#2419: Things I like about Cuenca so far

Post 2419

- 9 years and 43 days since I started this blog -

  

Playing at an open mic. I don't know why I even needed to caption this. Wherever I go, wherever I am, this is what I do.

Journal
(written about Feb 8-12, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 9 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

Can I get a little non-linear? Thank you. My thoughts are a little scrambled, and I thought I'd talk about more impressions than events.

Spoiler: I'm enjoying my time in Cuenca. I could see me moving, living here. When I talk to expats I meet, I'm impressed with their enthusiasm, whether they've been here for months or years.

It's easy here. That's a word a lot of the people I've spoken to who've made the move say. For one thing, there are a lot of those people here, and while it's not a requirement to have a large expat community in the places I'm considering living in, it can sure make the move easier when you have multiple people who've pioneered the way.

Cuenca has spent the last decade or so on everybody's top ten lists of retirement destinations, including some years in the number one slot. I'm not sure whether it's a chicken-and-egg thing, whether the number of people who moved here created that, or so many people moved here because of that, but here we are: Lots of expats.

And they come in all flavors - political, lifestyle choice, race, beliefs. One difference between residents here and in Chiang Mai and Lisbon: A much higher percentage - I'd guess somewhere around ninety percent - are North Americans. Gringos are a minority in Chiang Mai, and Lisbon? I was there for a week before I ran into my first American in Lisbon.

Everywhere I travel, I get a warm welcome. Not because I'm such a great guy, but as the new guy in town, I bring something novel to the mix. Everybody likes to tell their story, and the new guy hears it for the first time. Musicians look forward to testing you (even when warmly welcomed, I'm under no illusions: My performance is being critiqued) to see if you'd be a net add to the scene. 

And it's the same for me, in reverse. I'm always looking for the good in things, but I'm here to test Cuenca as a place to live, and I try to stay open to the good and bad.

So far, it's good, pretty much all the way.

But I'm easy to please.

I continue to be impressed with the local culture, very much present throughout the town, despite the tourist/gringo-oriented businesses and whatever gentrification has happened along the edges. 

The Cuencanos I've encountered while walking around, in the streets, shops and restaurants, seem very warm, friendly and - I can't believe I'm writing this without sarcasm - wholesome. It's like being in Mayberry, but more touchy-feely and, of course, much more dense and diverse (another big positive for me).

The surprise has been to the upside. I'm talking about the food I've been eating. Cuenca will never be the quality/variety food scene that Chiang Mai, LA, NYC or New Orleans are. It is not a foodie destination.

But the food I've had here has been really good. Noteworthy good. And, while Chiang Mai is the best bargain in restaurant eating I've ever experienced (especially given the quality), for the kind of eating I do, Cuenca isn't a lot more expensive - and is much cheaper than anywhere in North America.

I've had mostly excellent meals, including some standouts (curiously enough, many have been fish dishes in this 3-1/2-mile high mountain valley, four hours from the Pacific Ocean).

Another surprise has been the weather. It has been better than I expected, but that could be just another example of how lucky I am. But even on the few bad-weather days, the weather has been relentlessly pleasant.

It has rained here a few times in the last dozen days since I got here, but I have never been caught out in it. And, right after, walking through the damp streets, with the air temporarily cleans ed of any of the normal downtown pollution, is... wait for it... very pleasant!

The weather in the daytime, which is usually cloudy with always-present patches of blue, changes on a dime. It varies from the mid-sixties to low-seventies. But it can go from sunny to raining in an instant. I saw this through a window. I've also experienced a near-instantaneous dozen-degree temperature rise when the sun comes out.

And it's all very pleasant.

Here's a thing I knew about that was better experienced first-hand: The absence of flying insects. At this altitude, the air is too thin for the likes of mosquitoes, flies, and other bugs. They don't have a week to acclimate.

One thing I knew about that has been 100% borne out by frank conversations I've had with expats here, is that the cost of living is low. Low enough for me to live  a comparatively luxurious lifestyle here, and have enough money left over to travel back to the US to visit you all. 

Is it the lowest cost of living around? No, SouthEast Asia has a lock on that, but I would be able to live here exactly as I like, based on only my Social Security check. Easy.

One last thing to mention, that I'm not sure I have before: The water. Cuenca has the best water in South America. Potable tap water. Everybody drinks it. It isn't a big thing, but it's a thing.

Here's everything that I've been doing since my previous blog post: Eating, sleeping, walking, talking with people and making a little music. Having fun.That's life!


This blog's photos can be found in an album here.
 
I have so much to be grateful for.

Food Comment

From Café Nuncatella, vegetable hash and eggs with fresh fruit cup.

From Capitan, salmon with spinach (Florentine).

From A Pedir de Boca: Thai noodles with chicken. This colorful dish did manage to capture some Thai magic, but was a chef's take on the cuisine, with some adds and subracts, the least important of which was using ramen noodles. This dish was as good as it was colorful. One of my favorites.

From Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Hummus and home-made pita on a slab of shale.

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Thank you!

#2418: More impressions of Cuenca

Post 2418

- 9 years and 38 days since I started this blog -

  

At El Mercado, one of Cuenca's best restaurants. Behind me is Cuenca south of El Centro (downtown). In front of me is sopa de mariscos, incorrectly described on the menu as 'arroz Criollo' which made me think it was some kind of etouffee. No matter, it was excellent. Langoustine, prawns, shrimp, pike, clams, mussels, in a delicious broth with vegetables and rice. While this was an expensive dish by Ecuadorean standards, it was cheap compared to what a dish similarly well-prepared in a beautiful restaurant with excellent service would be anywhere in the US.

Journal
(written about Feb 4-Feb 7, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 9 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I still find myself responding positively to the touchy-feely, close personal space manner of Cuencanos (people of Cuenca). I love seeing people walking down the street holding hands, or with arms around each other, carrying infants and toddlers (instead of strollers). In my mind, it has become quite symbolic of the vibe in Cuenca. Very warm. Only one cab driver, frustrated by our lack of communication as to my desired destination, so far, has been anything less than very friendly in our interactions - including all the other taxi drivers I've dealt with.

My first week in Cuenca has been mostly pleasant. What wasn't? Getting used to the altitude. I've learned a few things, since I've been here, but I had a few days where altitude sickness - in my case, very mild - kept me from getting around as much as I would have liked. mostly a feeling of fatigue and heaviness the first days. On my third day here, when I thought I was over it, I had a beer. Next day, it was back in a new form - a very mild case of vertigo. Not enough to keep me from walking around a little bit, or from going out to my first jam session here, just enough to remind me that I didn't really know what was good for me. Yet.

I ate only one meal a day for my first four whole days in Cuenca. Not because I wasn't feeling well, but because the meals I ate were filling, and when it came time to eat again, I simply wasn't hungry. This might also be due to a big decrease in the amount of raw and cooked green vegetables in many meals. Veggies other than corn and potatoes, aren't really featured in the places I've been eating, although the good quality of the food I've had has masked a big increase in the starch content of my diet.

I am also having difficulty getting the rhythm of this town. By decades-long habit, I stay up late. I did this even when I was still working my nine-to-five. Probably greatly to my detriment in some areas of my life, but that's a story for another day. With alcohol involved

This is the opposite, it seems, from the typical resident, including expats. Theirs is a typical schedule around the workweek. Most, not all, places for recreation,  as in, restaurants and bars, are done at ten. I'm already collecting data on the exceptions, and have been to a few places that went to midnight, or, informally, later. 

So, Cuenca is a morning-oriented town, and I am quite the opposite of a morning-oriented person. Also, many businesses, especially restaurants, close at 3pm. Siesta, I guess, although nobody and nowhere have I read anything about a siesta tradition here. Some places reopen at five or six, but for some, that's the end of the day.

Me, on the other hand, three is a moderately early starting point for my day. 

But I digress. Not having the rhythm of this place - actually, not having the rhythm in any situation - is a bit frustrating. I hate being out of time, always. 

In fact, I've made good use of my time in my first week. To whit: 

I went to my first open mic. It was at a friendly restaurant, Kamaq Gastro Arte y Cultura, that had an actual stage - not elevated much, but big enough. When I walked in (late, because cab-hailing here is as random as it is seemingly everywhere), there was a guitar player and a cajon player (who, it turned out, also plays guitar, keys and sings - and runs this jam) on-stage. The room had a nice crowd.

Not knowing the format, I walked far to the side of the stage to put down my bass as inconspicuously as I could, with the rest of the instruments/cases, but was immediately beckoned to join in.

I got a good response from the other players and the audience, and was asked to stay up for another set. Here's a video taken by the lead singer's girlfriend or wife (I never ask): Cover: People Get Ready.

I introduced myself to all the players, and now I know some residents and also some part-timers. More importantly, I got to hear something a little different than my usual fare, including one excellent guitarist who played a lot of different songs from all over South America.

I was very happy with the night.

The next day I woke up feeling great! First day that's happened since arriving in Ecuador.

I walked a lot - even my arthritis wasn't bothering me at all. Deliberately, I found myself at those steps leading down to the river (pic in the last post #2417). I walked those stairs down and, after walking around a bit, back up to no ill effect - neither fatigue nor knee pain. 

After more wandering around and being too late for lunch (by then, it was 3pm), at two places I went to, I stopped for some coffee.

The place, which I chose based on it's nearness and clean looks, was the El Mercado coffee shop, at the front of a restaurant I didn't know was there. 

Why wasn't I aware of the restaurant? It's the Spanish colonial architecture. The front of most houses typically opens out into a courtyard, around which is the main living area. All the places I've been inside have been, tardis-like, bigger on the inside than what was hinted at out front.

At this coffee shop, I met the barista, Byron, and he turned out to be such a consummate, knowledgable (and English-speaking) pro, I put him through his paces, having him make an Aeropress, French press, and espresso. Every step of the way, he explained what beans he was using and why.

When I was at the French press portion, A gringa came and sat at the next table. I ended up having a 3-hour conversation with Susan, a very active retirement-age woman who is not at all retired, living and teaching in Cuenca. It was fun, and very, very informative. 

Long conversations, when you find yourself one-on-one in a comfortable place for it, are the norm when I travel. 

For one thing, being (always, pretty much) the new kid in town, I'm someone who hasn't heard their stories. For another, I'm someone they can help without cost or inconvenience, not knowing the place the way they do. As for me, they haven't heard my stories either, and I have lots and lots of stories.

You find out what you have in common, and what you don't. If you keep an open mind, it's a learning experience that has a lot of emotional and sometimes spiritual depth.

It makes this kind of conversation very pleasant, fun, recreational. I love it. 

When Susan had to leave for her dinner plans, Byron suggested I would enjoy the restaurant (that I didn't know I was even in part of). Susan affirmed that it was a very good place. It was 6:30, all I'd had to eat was a Byron-supplied cinnamon bun so far that day - I was hungry. So I said, fine, I'll do that.

Byron had to point out the way to the restaurant at the back of the building.

Big surprise. The restaurant was beautiful, three flights up from the street at the rear of the building it was in, with floor-to-high-ceiling windows showcasing the view of the southern half of the city.

The view, just at dusk, from the El Mercado.

I ordered the Arroz Criolla, which I thought would be a seafood gumbo (criolla), but which turned out to be an outrageously good sopa de mariscos (seafood soup). The waiter took the photo at the top of the post after bringing it to me. You can read more details about the dish there. 

I was so hungry, I had eaten half the dish when I realized I hadn't gotten a picture of it, which is a shame, because it was as good-looking a presentation as it was great eating. That night, I went to see some music, but the tiny venue was full. 

So, I aimlessly wandered around for a bit. I ended up at the Inca, a famous gringo hangout - right next to the base of those same stairs (second time that day). This time, when I went down the six or eight flights, I was reminded that, irrespective of altitude sickness, which I wasn't feeling at all, my knees are arthritic, and I had some pain.

The bar was empty. Why? No idea. I had an excellent michelada, watched some old eighties rom-com that had some kind of cross-dressing motif going on, in Spanish, on the big screen above the bar, and decided to call it a night.

When I got back to the base of the steps, there were about a dozen-and-a-half teenagers, and they were preparing to start a wheel-barrow race (one person holding the other's ankles waist-high, the other walking on their hands) up the stairs.

I was more than impressed. First of all, they were obviously doing this for fun (as opposed to, I don't know, the anti-social behavior other 'gangs' of kids indulge in while they're immersed in their phones, or other media distractions), and secondly, how well-organized they were - everybody seemed to know what part they were playing. Lastly, only a couple of girls in the group had phones out, and it was obvious they just wanted to document the event.

The race started, and I followed, to one side, out of the way. Only one of the half-dozen teams collapsed on the first flight. One made it up three. The other four collapsed about two-thirds of the way to the top. Everybody was laughing. Everybody seemed happy. 

Seeing that made me happy.

Here are some pics of my meanderings, and more. Cuenca 2/4-7/2020 album.

Larry, the husband of a woman from Syracuse, Laura, who I met earlier in the week, had reached out to me and on Thursday we were going to meet and take a walking tour of Cuenca.

But, after yesterday's excursion, the dozens of flights of stairs I had walked up and down, and all the mileage I put on (no cabs!), my knees were... grumpy. I wasn't going to be doing a lot of walking this day.

We went to a coffee shop off Parque Calderón, very near. We talked for a good long spell, over cappucinos (him) and espressos and eggs (me, very good!), and then we walked to some other places nearby, as Larry wove his story in with the sights we passed.

We ended up at one of the smaller mercados near his and Laura's home. Again, I was impressed at how unimpressive street-facing buildings lead to large and pretty interior living spaces.

The conversation continued for the rest of the afternoon. As sometimes happens, I left feeling very much like I'd discovered a good friend who was meant to be my friend, waiting for me to encounter him. That's something that has happened, in my travels, more frequently than I would have guessed. But it is always a delight.

Laura had invited me to Common Grounds for karaoke night. I'll be honest (as I was with her), that isn't something I typically enjoy. I also resent karaoke because it is used as a replacement for live music. Laura suggested that it would be a good time and place to meet other musicians, who were fairly regular attendees.

All right. I had no better ideas.

I took a cab over, and found Laura, Larry, and Bert and Jerre (and a few others) from Wednesday's open mic at Kamaq.

I asked the open mic host if he had the JJ Cale version of 'After Midnight' in his machine, and he responded yes.

As I made my way back to the bar, I reached for my phone, just to check the time.

It wasn't in my pocket.

I looked around where I'd been sitting at the bar, went back to the table where I'd filled out my song request. Not there. Several of the other patrons formed a search crew (thank you!) but came up empty. I realized it must have come out of my pocket in the cab.

Larry called me. The cab driver picked up. Larry (who speaks good Spanish) told him (again) where we were, and promised him a reward if he returned it.

Other folks in the bar told me how common it was for people to lose their phones or have them stolen. I didn't need to hear that, and went out to the street to wait for the taxi's return. Larry hung out with me. Fifteen minutes later, the cabbie rolled up, handed me my phone. I thanked him as best I could (and passed him what I hope was a generous reward), Larry thanked him more profusely, in his better Spanish.

I remain the luckiest person I know. Tragedy (and I do meant tragedy) averted. Also, everybody in the bar was talking about me like I had just done something amazing, when I had just done something careless and stupid, and totally gotten away with it. All right, maybe that's amazing.


How could I not be grateful for my life and my luck? Believe me, I take nothing for granted. I live in a world of gratitude, because I live in a world with plenty of people and experiences to be grateful for.

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