Seasickness, Snorkeling, and Tortoises Galore!

The last few days have felt like weeks and I mean that not because they have been unenjoyable, but because we have done SO MUCH in so little time. Me, Claire, Ricarda, the three new German girls from Jatun Sacha, and two of the German volunteers that arrived with Ricarda left on a four-day tour of the islands at 6:00AM Friday morning. The other volunteers had told us we HAD to do the tour if we had the opportunity--not only did we get a HUGE discount as Jatun Sacha volunteers, but, without the tour, we also would not be able to see so much of the islands in such a short period of time and since I do not have much time left in the Galapagos, I decided I HAD to do it.

Our group was comprised of us eight Jatun Sacha volunteers and an older woman named Joy who, originally from Ohio, had married a Cornishman and moved to Cornwall, England with him 37 years ago. I get the impression that he passed away, though she had not explicitly said as much, but nevertheless, she is volunteering as a teacher in the Galapagos for three months and decided to join our tour at the last minute.

To say the tour began roughly is an understatement. It was about two hours by boat to the first island we were visiting, Floreana, but it was cloudy, cold, and windy, so the sea was very rough and more than one person came close to being sick on the ride. Even I, who have never had too much trouble with motion sickness, felt pretty queasy by the end. But hands down, no one had it worse than poor Joy. Joy went to the back of the boat with the other people prone to seasickness, since it is apparently a little better back there, about twenty minutes into what turned into a three hour boat ride due to the rough seas. And about that time, Joy started throwing up and did not stop until we reached Floreana.

We stopped near Floreana for our first scheduled snorkeling time. Everyone was a bit hesitant, since it was cold and windy and poor Joy was strewn out on the seat in the boat, paralyzed by nausea. But our guide, Wilson, insisted we try, so reluctantly, we got in. Thank goodness we did--not only did the sun soon come out afterwards, but a bunch of sea lions swam with us. And not only did they swim with us, but they played with us too. One of them swam right up and stole one person´s fin (our guide, Wilson, chased it and got the fin back) and another one swam right up to one of the German girls, Uli, and was flipping around in front of her and looking at her, curiously.

We got back in the boat and then made our way to land (thank goodness, for Joy´s sake!). Every got off at the dock in Floreana a little shakily and proceeded to a waiting truck that we took up to the highlands to an enclosure of giant tortoises. Giant tortoises are extinct in the wild on Floreana, due to invasive species and humans, but this enclosure has tortoises that were at one time pets of people and, now that that is not allowed, they live in an enclosure where people can visit them. It was pretty cool to get to look at them (and we witnessed a very frustrated male trying very unsuccessfully to mate with multiple females, who were not the least bit interested in him).

Afterwards, we hiked to the "Pirate Cave"--this labyrinth of rock formations where the first inhabitant of the island, an Irish pirate named Robert Hawkins, lived alone for many years. The cave itself turned out to be rather small, but it was a stone structure in which he lived and where you could see shelves, a chimney, and a bed all carved out of the rock. Pretty cool.

Next, we went back down and had lunch in the little town, followed by a brief visit to the black sand beach before we got back on the boat (now sufficiently drugged up on dramamine) and went off to Isabela.

Once we got to Isabela, we went off to the tortoise breeding center there, where we saw some more tortoises, including a bunch of babies, which were very cute. Then, we went off to dinner and then went to bed, exhausted.

The next morning began bright and early with a quick breakfast at the hotel and then we all got in a bus to go off to the highlands. We stopped at a barn and took horses from there along a slightly muddy track through dense trees and brush for about an hour and a half. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, I looked to my right and realized we were now riding along the edge of the giant crater (the second largest in the world, to be exact) of the Sierra Negra volcano! It was immense and, luckily, we had a clear, sunny day that allowed us to see all of it--this giant expanse of black volcanic rock that went on forever!

We got off the horses near the edge of the crater and left them there while we hiked down through a sea of volcanic rock, littered with cacti. Eventually, we emerged on this hill that overlooked more volcanoes in the distance and beyond them, we could see the silvery-blue water of the ocean beyond. It was absolutely breathtaking and unforgettable.

We hiked back and had a quick lunch before getting back on the horses to return. Now, here is where things maybe got a little scary. Now, the horses had seemed like maybe they were not cared for entirely properly--the first one they put me on had a terrible limp, so I ended up switching. The new one they put me on did not limp, but was obviously very hungry and stopped at every opportunity to eat. It turned out that a lot of the horses were lame and a lot of them kept trying to stop and eat, indicating that maybe they were not being fed enough. So, on the way back, some people decided not to ride their horses, while some did. I decided to ride mine. However, part way through the ride, the caballero that had been escorting us came up behind me with two of the riderless horses. He must have hit them or scared them or something, because all of the sudden they went thundering past me. My horse, who had been fine until then, freaked out and went thundering after them, with me clinging onto him for dear life. He panicked and started to run toward the trees and leapt OVER a tree stump, at which point I nearly fell off. The whole time, I was doing my best to hold on and rein him in, but he did not listen. FINALLY, blessedly, he stopped and I was able to get down.

The two horses that had thundered past me had finally stopped, but only because they were tied together and one had fallen and could not get back up. He helped me down, but only as he yelled in Spanish about how it was our fault because some of us walked while others rode and it confused the horses. I, frankly, thought the horses might be more bothered by him hitting them with a whip than by our indecision, but said nothing and continued on foot to the stable.

When we got back to the hotel, Claire, who I had not talked to since before the horse ride back, had apparently had a similar experience to mine. Her horse had stopped to eat and the caballero had come up and hit him across the face, at which point he took off into the trees with Claire on his back. Claire got hit pretty hard on the head by a tree branch and was really freaked out. Our guide, Wilson, told us he would talk to the tour group about that particular caballero, since he had had trouble with him before, and that he would tell them about the condition of the horses.

Next, we went out for a quick snorkeling trip in the bay, The waves were rough and the sun was setting, so we did not see much. However, the view above water was spectacular--what a sunset! I sat there in the water with my snorkeling mask off, just looking at the sunset and thinking, "Wow, am I really here?"

We DID see (from the boat) some sea turtles--BIG ones--in a little protected bay where the water was smooth and calm. Every so often, we would see their heads come up out of the water and then their shells, before they dove back under. It was a very peaceful, incredible sight.

That night, after dinner, Claire, Ricarda, our guide Wilson, and I went to the Bar de Beto, which is apparently famous on Isabela. It is this bar on the beach near the water, with a little tree from which are hanging all different liquor bottles. We had a drink and played a game of Cuarenta, before going back to the hotel and going to bed, exhausted.

Joy had wanted to see the Wall of Tears before we left Isabela and we did not have time Saturday, so Wilson offered to take people before breakfast at 6:00 on Sunday before we left Isabela. I decided to go, as did Ricarda and Claire, so the four of us went with Wilson bright and early. It was a quick trip, but I was glad I went. The Wall of Tears is a wall of maybe 6 or 7 meters high and pretty long, made of stones from the 1940s when Isabela was a penal colony. The prisoners, for no reason other than to give them something to do, were forced to carry stones to make the walls and many apparently died (I can see why, since there was nothing like cement or anything holding the rocks together, making it easy for them to fall and hurt someone).

We went back and had breakfast and then took the boat over to Santa Cruz. It was a pretty long boat ride and we stopped part way there to snorkel at Cuatro Hermanos, this giant rocky island in the ocean with a cave in it. We snorkeled inside the cave and though you could not go too far before it got too dark to see anything, it was amazing. When we turned to go back out, the view was amazing--this dark, black water giving way to the light, blue water outside the cave, where a school of fish was floating. So amazing.

When we got to Isabela, we had lunch, but whether because of being out in the sun so long, not drinking enough water or getting enough sleep, or a combo of all three, I felt really dizzy and did not eat--just drank some water. After lunch, we took a bus to the highlands to visit a farm where the tortoises roam free, which was cool but hard to enjoy, since I still felt light-headed.

After a walk around the farm, we went to see a lava tunnel located there. Apparently, millions of years ago when the island was formed, lava that was flowing cooled on top while the hot, liquid lava flowed underneath. When the lava emptied out, it left a giant underground tunnel, which we took a walk through.

After that, we took our bus to the Darwin Station, where we saw loads of giant tortoises, iguanas, and Lonesome George himself--the last of his species. There are 12 species of giant tortoise in the world, but when George dies there will be only 11 because he is the last of his kind. The rest were killed off due to humans, invasive species, etc. Cool to see him, but very sad, too.

We returned to our hotel then. I was EXHAUSTED, so I ended up going to bed without dinner, too. Had a good sleep and feel slightly better today.

We return to San Cristobal today. I have just three more work days at Jatun Sacha and I return to the mainland on Sunday! And it´s funny--compared to the literally non-stop activity of the past few days, a little manual labor at Jatun Sacha seems like a relief!

Now, I have to say that this tour was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Just seeing the Sierra Negra volcano made it all worth it, just that one sight! I enjoyed it all immensely and would do it again in a heartbeat. That said, I have come to realize a few things, due to spending so much time in close quarters with people I would not necessarily otherwise spend so much time with. I think I can pretty much summarize my major pet peeves into three general categories, as a result of the past three days.

1) People who complain. All the time. No matter what.

Case in point: Let´s call her Angelika, shall we? Angelika seems to fit this girl, since it was the name of the spoiled brat character on the "Rugrats" program I watched growing up. Now, Angelika comes from a rather wealthy family in Germany and thought it would be fun to be able to say that she spent four weeks in the Galapagos, even though she seems to loath everything about Jatun Sacha and has yet to do any real work at all because she has had "a cough" all week (think Zoolander: "I have the black lung...eh...eh..."). WELL, here we are, spending a pretty decent amount of money so we can see some really cool sites and do things that a lot of other people would kill to do. And here is Angelika, who has been sure to remind EVERYONE that she has a cough, maybe bronchitis, maybe phneumonia! And therefore, we can´t do anything too physical or strenuous! She sat and waited for two hours with the horses while the rest of us hiked around the Sierra Negra and saw the volcanoes and everything. She sat in the boat, brooding and looking pitiful while we all snorkeled. And when Wilson asked us if we wanted to do a little hike before we saw the lava tunnels, she piped up shrilly to say, "I CAN´T walk too far--I have a cough!" Needless to say, everyone is pretty much fed up with it (Ricarda so much so that she finally spoke up and told Angelika to stop complaining, which prompted a rather uncomfortable argument in German at lunch yesterday between the two of them). Frankly, I find it offensive that she has been so determined to be miserable and not only that but make everyone else miserable, too. I know so many people who would love to do this type of trip but can´t. She can, thanks to her daddy´s money, but has come here and been determined not to enjoy a moment of it. What a waste.

2) Impatient people. Impatient Americans, especially.

Case in point: At breakfast yesterday morning at our hotel, we were all sitting at a long table, eating, when a couple from the US sat down at the end of our table. They were separated from us, even though we were technically at the same table, and very obviously a separate party. Yet, for some reason, they decided they could not wait for the waitress to serve them and proceeded to ask us to pass down our tea, our coffee, our bread, everything! That is the equivalent of going into a restaurant and asking people at another table to please pass over their food so they can eat it. And literally, two minutes after we grudgingly passed our things down, the waitress came out with coffee, tea, and bread for them. Idiots.

3) People who do not listen to simple directions. Or common sense. And who make stupid and avoidable mistakes as a result.

Case in point: Let´s call her Gerda, because frankly, names like Gerda and Olga were invented for women like her. Gerda is a very large woman of about fifty who came from Germany to work at Jatun Sacha. She apparently, somehow, works in the Ministry back in Germany, but I do not know how. Besides not speaking hardly any English or Spanish, she apparently prefers not to speak much German either, instead preferring to gesticulate and grunt wildly to get her point across. Being in close proximity to her has been trying at times, since she apparently does not believe in deoderant nor in ever shaving her armpits, which on more than one occasion have been in my face on the boat the past few days. ANYWAY, Gerda is somewhat clumsy and whether on the boat, in the bus, or anywhere else, finds opportunity to stumble and bumble about, nearly running into everyone along the way. She just laughs and proceeds to exagerrate, flailing her arms wildly and laughing as all 250 pounds of her nearly barrel into anyone within range. Now, who was the only person to go off the trail and not listen to our guide and hence get stuck in the leg rather badly by a cactus during our first weekend here? Gerda. So of course it would follow that when we were hiking through the volcanic rock around the Sierra Negra this weekend, who was the only person to not listen to our guide or common sense and venture off the trail? Gerda. She not only went off the trail, but perched herself on a freaking cliff, surrounded by volcanic rock (which is very sharp and very jagged) so she could take a picture, while Wilson waved and called and gestured frantically for her to get down. Of course, she slipped, being both clumsy and, well, on a cliff, and scraped her legs AND ripped her pants (the rocks are REALLY sharp). Let me tell you, she turned out to be okay, but I would have been really upset if we were not able to continue the hike because she had done something stupid and busted her head, requiring us to rush her to a hospital or something.

All this aside, I had a wonderful trip and all these encounters with rather irritating people is certainly fodder for some rather amusing stories. But nothing and no one could have ruined the past few days. Not to sound like a Mastercard commercial, but it was truly priceless. I told Claire: I spent a decent amount of time this semester being somewhat homesick and a decent amount of this semester hearing my classmates talk about how they never wanted to go home, that they wanted to live in Ecuador, that they never wanted to leave, and the whole time, I never understood how they could feel that way. Until now. It took coming to Jatun Sacha and toiling away in the sun for hours and getting bit by fire ants and sharing my bathroom with cockroaches and spiders and meeting so many different people from so many different places to cure me of my homesickness once and for all and to finally give me that sense of fulfillment and peace and understanding that eluded me for so long. Now, going home for me will be much harder than I imagined--while it will be nice to go home, it will definitely be bittersweet, as I now know that I will genuinely miss it here. I will miss the friends I have made and the adventure of every new day. But I can go home a little more contented and happy as well, knowing that I achieved that and that I finally found that sense of fulfillment here.

Until next time, ciao!

-Alex