Well, we are trying to remain positive, but we cannot say that our experience in Equador has been, on balance, wonderful. Beyond the novelty of Gary getting tear gassed in Quito while getting caught in one of the demonstrations of the day, Otovalo`s weather was as sour and overcast as its people. There was grafitti in many places about the US and capitalism being the equilvant of imperialism, as well as one sign asking who is the greater terrorist, the US or Al Queda? Apparently, the question needed no answer. Ironically, Otovalo is very prosperous, thanks to the authentic Indian blankets and whatnot that they can sell to the US.

Meanwhile, while we were in Quito, one of our wallets was stolen from our room. While we cancelled all the cards, there was a blank check in our wallet that was cashiered in the amount of $10,500 at a local bank in Quito. We had alerted our bank in Boulder, so the check has not been honored. Nevertheless, the Boulder bank requires a police report that a crime has actually been committed. In Ecuador, getting the police to take notice of a crime, let alone make a report, is easier said than done.

Although we had the print out of the check that our thief had forged and cashed at a local bank, the police were completely uninterested because we were reporting the crime more tham 48 hours after the intial theft (despite the fact that we were reporting as soon as we found out that a forgery had been attempted). You won´t believe it, but while we were discussing this with the receiving police officer, he was far more interested in the cartoons that were playing very loudly on a television across the room. Of the many police in this office, all were either text messaging on their cell phones, watching TV, and surfing the web in small groups.

Since it is difficult for us to communicate in Spanish while competing with Bugs Bunny, Rick walked over and turned off the TV. This evoked an immediate reprimand, followed by a police officer turning back on the TV with his remote. Eventually, the remote was left unguarded and Rick took possesion of the remote and turned off the TV again. This resulted in a posse of 6 police officers arguing with us, including an unusually fat policewoman, heretofore text messaging, who demanded the remote back from Rick. Rick refused. At this point, we got some talk about some other place of indeterminate location were we could go to obtain a report, but it was all really about getting back the TV remote, which we eventually surrendered.

At this point, we were screwed -- and angry. Later, as we were walking away from the "tourista" police station, Rick spottted a 50-ish rotund man, in a police uniform, crossing the street. He was followed by an entourage of 4 and, most compellingly, his police uniform sported an inordinate amount of ribbon and metal on his chest and shoulders. Rick intercepted him at the curb and regailed him in broken Spanish with our sob story. Either because of Rick´s meager rhetorical abilities in Spanish, or because we appeared to be modestly well grommed Americans, and because our saviour could not very well say fuck off in front of an audience, this gentleman, who turned out to be the police colonel in charge of the immiedate area, ushered us to a different police area. I literally mean ushered us, because we could not have gained enterance otherwise. With a few barked orders, there were three very friendly officers who created a poice report in no time. Well, no time here, which means about 30 minutes, and we could not have been more grateful had Jesus had come down and given us a bitchin foot massage.