Cuentos: Tena, otra vez

Nuevas amigas on the Rio Jatunyacu.

On the morning of February 12, I caught a cab to the Fulbright Commission in Quito. On the way, I asked the driver if he knew where I could buy some #2 pencils at 7:30 on a Saturday morning. He knew. He took me to a small store in La Floresta neighborhood (maybe the only store open in all of Quito at that hour), dropped me off at the Commission, and wished me good luck. I then spent the next four hours in a room with photos of Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton, and Mr. Fulbright himself, all watching patiently as a dozen nervous humans scrambled to demonstrate their understanding of the three Rs, hoping that their weeks of recent study and years as a student subjected to too many tests just like this one would pay off. They were hoping that admissions committees would deem them worthy of entrance into their programs, that their schools of choice would welcome them back to the States with open arms, or (in some cases) that the U.S. university system would choose them as the next Ecuadorian to represent their country in a fabled land of scholastic opportunity. That was the GRE. I was glad when it was over.

After the test, I met up with Rosada again. This time she was just back from the Galapagos and accompanied by her manfriend, Joe. We had lunch in Quito and then almost immediately began taking steps to get back to the jungle - back to Tena. The bus ride from Quito to Tena via the northern route is only four hours long. I boarded the bus wearing a down puffy and wool socks and exited wearing flip flops and a t-shirt. The ride is, needless to say, steep and fast - terrifying.

We spent a day on the Jatunyacu and another (el dia de San Valentin) on the Jondachi-Hollin. The latter run is perfect - beautiful, fun, and full of the butterflies.