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Published: February 15th 2006
Executive Summary
I took a couple extra weeks and stayed around Canoa to learn paragliding. I survived and loved learning to fly. My instructor was one of several gringoes I've met who have 'got stuck' down here. I often feel a mix of happy and guilty when it comes to being a wealthy tourist in an impoverished land. Finally, and not to be missed, a recipe for local dish "bolon de verde".
Meeting the "Locals"
There's a Hotel California effect down here, subtly tugging at many travelers' heart and purse strings. In Canoa I met quite a few Europeans and North Americans who fell in love with the ocean, often a local Ecuadorian too to seal the deal. There's Calvin, from Winnipeg, who if you ask how long he's been on the road he'll say "Oh, since 1996 I suppose." He came down for one trip, then realized that Winnipeg winters were not quite as nice as the perpetual summer at the beach in Canoa. He just bought the Surf Shack from Jim, a Floridian who doesn't like the recent changes in town. It used to be pretty quiet, a sleepy fishing village up to about last year, so he's
selling and moving on some place more to his liking (rumor is somewhere on the Brazilian coast). I went to the opening of a new dance bar/ restaurant called the Shamrock. The brainchild of Mark from Belfast, he doesn't let the simple fact that no Irish beers are available stop him from creating his Irish-tinged thumping night scene. His wife and 2 of her sisters pour the drinks behind the bar and do synchronized salsa behind the bar. The restaurant hadn't opened yet (all these guys talk about is red tape and the resulting delays to all their plans) so I wasn't able to get any shepherd's pie. I did stay a few nights in a brand new 3-story bamboo palace built by a Norwegian, with gorgeous ocean views and private, hammock-bedecked balconies for $8 a night.
Greg is a big boisterous good ol' boy from Kentucky, who was on his way to a paragliding competition in Brazil with his brother last year. They got behind schedule then cancelled the trip once they were in Canoa, where there's great flying from the cliffs above the ocean. And he met Claudia, a lovely Ecuadorian, and got motivated to learn Spanish
as quickly as possible for to woo. His Spanish sounds very Kentuckian, but he understands and is understood by most of the locals. He's like a big kid, always looking for a joke and laugh, and he tends to be both shocking and endearing. One time on the small boat taxiing between Bahia and San Vincente (always crowded and wobbly) the guy collecting money dropped a dime as he was standing on the raised front portion of the boat. Greg, not missing a beat, dove full length, body stretched, to retrieve it like it was a gold dubloon, and most of the boat first gasped, then started laughing with him as he came up saying something funny in his Kentucky Espanol.
Learning to Fly
I got to know Greg pretty well because he became my paragliding instructor for the last couple weeks I stayed in Canoa (making it about 6 weeks all together-- Help, I'm getting STUCK!). I was on the fence, since it seemed a bit shoe string, and I just wasn't sure it didn't scare me to death. A Canadian couple staying at the Sundown Inn and taking Spanish lessons with me, though, were full bore interested,
so that won me over, thinking it would be fun to learn with other folks. Joel and Lana are from Banff country, so they have adventure in their hearts, and Joel especially was just itching to hook in and jump off a cliff. The first step was a tandem flight, and Greg easily pulled the big wing up over head at the launch site above Canoa with a gorgeous view from about 400' to the ocean and Canoa. Then Calvin and Mark assisted by grabbing my harness and pulling us both to the edge and over. I think the most nervous time was right before he pulled up the wing, knowing there'd be a big jerk as it caught the breeze, and knowing we'd have to run run run off the cliff. But once off it was incredible, and we were able to turn immediately along the cliff and catch rising air, the ocean breeze being pushed against the cliff and forced upward. We soard back and forth along the ridge line for about 20 minutes, then headed down to a surprisingly soft landing on the beach. My cheeks hurt from grinning, and I had a feeling I'd be jumping
in for the whole course.
I didn't know much about his background, but Greg had a school in the states, and from his talking and flying, I knew he was totally focused on a safe and competent learning environment. He was most interested in getting people into the sport for a lifetime, and as we were some of his first students, it was going to be the best advertising to have us want to stay involved back at home, letting people know about where we learned. At $500 for the course, this was much less expensive than in the US (this for a "P2" license, which means becoming a competent individual pilot, logging 25 or so flights). He thinks Canoa is an ideal place to learn because there are consistent afternoon breezes from the ocean and you just don't have to worry about the weather much since it's on the equator. A problem, though, was a lack of infrastructure. We each had a wing that we fit, and a harness. But there were no books (though I was able to read a text book an earlier student had with him), a high launch in need of some improvement, no
real 'training hill' (like a gentle long ski slope), and no decent vehicle to get us around. His '72 Volkswagen Thing, like every other old vehicle owned by the others, was out of commission, waiting for one part or another to arrive from Quito. He did have a 125cc motorcycle, so our trips up to the launch were a bit dicey, riding behind him one at a time with our heavy packed wings on our backs up the steep curvy dirt/sometimes mud road up to the launch.
But the first week was fine for learning, as we had classes on the beach behind the Sundown Inn, and simply practiced "kiting". This involves the all-important first step of the launch, getting a smooth controlled inflation of the wing so it's right above your head, and being able to control it as the wind or terrain demands. But first we learned how to unroll the wing and figure out how to get all those dang lines organized. Then we leaned to hook in with the harness, always securing the leg straps first, then the chest strap (all there is to it). If you forget the legs, you can take off the
cliff then slip out of the harness (last words being "what the!?"). We were able to successfully get the wing up after a couple sessions, but Greg stressed we needed to get as much kiting practice as possible. We practiced mini-launches off the 2' sand cliff of the beach (during low tide!), and mini-landings.
My first attempt at the dicey cliff launch was humiliating and discouraging. Joel had successfully launched off for his first flight the day before, but I just couldn't control the wing enough. It was a bit too breezy, maybe, and with Joel and Lana watching, and with Greg literally getting my back, I tried over and over to pull up the wing and hold it above, before the quick turn and run off the cliff. But what makes that launch dicey is it's small size (you need to stand near the cliff edge when you pull the wing up), and it's flatness (so that the breeze is a bit turbulent as it comes over the cliff). It was nothing like the beach, and there was very little wind at the knee level, but lots more once the wing got in the power zone, about a
45 degree angle. It would catch the breeze and dart up, I wouldn't apply the right amount of 'braking', and would get tossed underneath it like a pendulum as it came over me. Once Greg had to tackle me as it came up and got close to pulling me out of control toward the edge. (I'm making this sound a bit more fraught than it was, since there was a ledge with shrubs and small trees underneath that first edge). Di-cey! I finally had to give up and wasn't sure I'd try again.
Then we went down to Crucita, south of Canoa, where there has been an established paragliding and hanggliding launch for over 10 years. It's a huge, gently down-sloping launch, with the easy sand landing on the beach below. We all successfully had 2 good launches and flights and landings on Friday afternoon after arriving. It was absolutely thrilling to get off the launch and feel the wind in my face and see nothing but air underneath my feet as I floated down to the buildings of the town and the (narrow!) strip of beach below. Pretty easy controls, as you just need to pull on your
right toggle to turn right, left to turn left, and pull on both hard just before the ground for a "step landing". The landing was a bit disorienting the first couple of times, and I was glad to have the forgiving sand as the landing. I flared (to stop) to high the very first time, and came down harder than I wanted.
Our third flight that Friday was incredible. We were able to soar back and forth along the ridge (after hearing a quick lesson on "right of way") since the breeze from the ocean and conditions were perfect. We ended up all flying for 2 1/2 hours on that 3rd solo flight, which is probably pretty rare. It was relaxing and mesmerizing, though I felt totally vigilant the whole time, always checking where the others were, looking for the "lift", remembering to always turn into the wind, and flying with my brother and sister birds (hawks, pelicans, and frigate birds). That was really the experience I had in the back of my mind as I was thinking about why I wanted to learn paragliding-- I wanted to fly (not just float for a couple minutes down to a
landing), and I hadn't really known this is what you do with paragliding. Most pilots try to stay up by finding lift and getting and staying higher than the launch site.
We had very low wind on Saturday (for 6 or so "sled rides" from the launch down to the beach) and no wind on Sunday (so just went back to Canoa). I was able to tackle that Canoa launch site before leaving, so was able to fly solo above the stretch of beach I had been living for the past several weeks. But tragedy struck while we were trying to finish up the flights, with a rival buying the launch site land out from under Greg. Maybe the revenge of the Ecuadorians against the invading Gringo entrepreneurs, since the person selling it had taken a down payment from Greg and had as much of an agreement that people seem to have here for land purchases. Now Greg isn't sure he'll have access to the only real launch site for his school, and was really discouraged by how things went with the land deal. Although he's trying to set up a business, he's not doing it to make a
lot of money, but to do something he loves and build a new reason to get people to come to Canoa. He's now not even sure he's staying around, but he hired a lawyer right before I left to try to figure stuff out. He signed off on my license, using a bit of "instructor discretion". My flying is over for now, which was the plan before writing this entry since it would have driven my mother crazy with worry.
Woes of a sensitive traveler
I think most travelers from wealthy countries visiting 3rd world countries at some point feel a curious blend of happiness that things are so affordable and guilt (? this not the right word) for taking advantage of our privelage while the general population is so impoverished. Juan Carlos, my Spanish instructor and owner of the Sundown Inn does pretty well, but he has never traveled outside of Ecuador, and would never ever be able to travel to the states. We travel around spending what amounts to be very big bucks; on the one hand, we're bringing this money into the country, and tourist dollars are not doubt huge for the local and national economies
where we travel. On the other hand it must be very difficult to be exposed to that kind of wealth and luxury when people have difficulty getting by. The differences in earning power between our countries is hard to understand. I've met young couples that basically work crap jobs for 6 months or a year so they can travel for the same amount of time down here. Meanwhile, a typical crap job here pays about $5 a day.
I don't think the Gringoes I've met building businesses down here should not be doing that, but I also find myself thinking, well wouldn't it be better if some of the locals could own these businesses rather than be around for the cheap labor? I find myself salivating over the much cheaper ocean-front properties, but also think it's odd that so much of this best and limited land gets bought by folks outside the country who often aren't even here more than a month out of the year. I say that, but if land were cheaper I'd be very tempted to buy something, even if it were for the investment, but also to possibly have as a place to spend more
time later. (Five to six years ago, an ocean front lot was going for around $6000-- Greg just bought his ocean-front lot right next to the Sundown Inn for $25,000). I think it's GREAT that I can travel long-term for very little down here, so don't get me wrong. I also just felt a bit funny at times on the beach practicing with my big expensive paraglider as I mixed with the local families for whom its cost probably equaled around 3 years of working.
Local Recipe
On the coast, a popular breakfast item is Bolon de Verde (ball of green, in this case, green bananas). I was happy to stumble on this since I was eating 2 eggs every day with bread rolls, and discovered that, like grits in the south, it's better to have a local side dish you can mix in with the eggs. Besides, you deep fry the green bananas twice while making this dish, so how can that be bad?!
Somehow, find 4 very green plantains (bigger than bananas, not sure I've seen them up there!). Get over the difficulty of peeling them, and then cut them in about 3/4 inch sections. Pop these in hot oil and fry them for about 5 minutes 'til golden brown all around. Let them drip dry. Then, and this is a fun step, give them a good mash with a rolling pin. Use your hands to mix them together, eventually kneading the mixture like bread dough. Add some salt, some butter, some finely chopped onion, and some milk. Keep kneading. Finally, grab a handful, create a dimple in the middle and put some grated cheese in there, then fold it back over, making an oval a bit larger than an egg. Then deep fry these suckers, about 4 minutes per side. Eat with eggs! Heck, fry up some bacon for good measure. Feel your heart strain with the glorious pleasure!
Next Steps:
I'll hopefully write soon about the few days after Canoa, where I did a quick tour of Puerto Lopez (the poor man's galapagos) and Gringo/ Surf mecca Montañita. Because I couldn´t find a cheap (unless $800 is cheap-- hah! not feeling so wealthy after all!) one-way ticket down to Patagonia, Chile to meet Sarah, I´m trying Plan B, which is fraught and will take more time. You´ll hear more soon!
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Kate Shirley
non-member comment
I'm loving your blog -- thanks for letting us virtually travel with you! And I have been taking a Spanish class at MHCC since September -- hablamos Español cuando vuelves, sí?