Ecuador: Termas Papallactas & Adventures in Spanish-speaking

On our first sight-seeing day, the same car service picked us up at about 8:00 in the morning and drove us about an hour and a half to visit Termas Papallactas.  "Termas" are hot springs.  Papallactas is the name of the mountain.  Our driver that day was Gonzalo, who spoke English very well and was also really friendly and great to us.  We stopped to get out of the car and take pictures several times on the way up.  We were now, way, way, way up in the mountains.

Termas Papallactas looked like an out-of-the-way resort with lots of normal-looking swimming pools, but the water in all the pools was hot spring water.  Other than a restaurant and some dressing rooms, and a snack bar with towel and locker rentals, and the ticket office, there wasn't much there but lots of pools and showers, and breathtaking vistas.  Huge imposing mountains with tropical-looking vegetation and tropical-looking flowers, and the natural springs, which looked like a picturesque river of white-water rapids, were all around.  It was a very cloudy day and there was an intermittent light sprinkling of rain.  It felt too cold to be wearing a swimsuit, but since the water was pretty hot, it actually worked out well.  Some of the swimming pools were built around outcroppings of rocks with presumably natural little waterfalls.  There was so much mountain mist, mixing with steam rising from the pools, it gave the landscape a surreal but gorgeous look.

Guess how much it cost?  $8.50 per person for all day.

Gonzalo came out of the car and walked up to the ticket counter with us so he could help us buy our tickets, as Adam doesn't speak Spanish and I was still feeling pretty unsure about my linguistic capabilities.  He didn't have to do that, but he offered.  I think he originally intended to leave and pick us up later, but he changed his mind and said he'd stay and he would be around if we needed him.  He changed into his swim trunks and soaked in the springs right along with us, although we didn't really hang out together while there.

We swam and enjoyed ourselves for a couple of hours.  When we got out and changed back into street clothes, Adam realized that he had left his shoes in a dressing room when we first got there and they were now gone.  At this point, we should have tried to find Gonzalo so that he could help us talk to the staff, but we didn't immediately see him around and it seemed like time was of the essence when lost shoes (and socks!) were at stake.  So I talked to the snack-bar/locker rental lady, rather awkwardly in Spanish (I cringe because I said "vestidos" [dresses] when I meant "vestidores" [dressing rooms]), she made a phone call, presumably to Lost & Found, and luckily Adam's shoes (and socks!) had been found turned in, and a security guard came and found us and we got them back. Zapatos (y calcetines!).  Then we ate lunch at the restaurant.

I was proud that I had gotten the message across and also that I had handled the locker rentals earlier.  In fact the only reason I tell this boring side-story is because the Spanish-speaking experiences were one of the biggest highlights for me.  Every interaction left me either embarrassed and insecure, or glowing with pride and exhilaration.  It was way too big of a deal to me;  I can admit that.  But I really like learning Spanish, and this was my first time in a Spanish-speaking country.  Although there are plenty of Spanish-speaking people at home and everywhere else, they pretty much all speak English as well.  Not always but usually, I feel pretty self-conscious about trying to speak Spanish (sort of conversantly but not fluently) to native Spanish-speakers who are fluent in English.  It's easier to push through that when there's no other choice because they don't speak English.  At least then, even though I'm making tons of big mistakes, it's not quite as embarrassing because their English won't be SO much better than my Spanish.

Of course, many people can speak English in Quito, especially in hospitality and tourism-type industries, but otherwise, a lot don't.  Many, many signs have English translations, but a lot don't.  Translating shit for Adam was a major thrill for me.  That is my idea of a fun time.  Except for when I suck and feel ashamed.  But I'm finally, for the first time, at a language level where those moments are outweighed by proud moments.

It can give you a really icky feeling in the pit of your stomach when someone is saying something you know is probably pretty simple and straightforward, but you don't have even a clue.  That happened to me a lot.  Various minor things went slightly awry because I didn't understand shit well enough...like, I went to Subway and ordered a meatball sandwich, and they asked me if I wanted it heated, and I thought they meant do I want it toasted and I said no.  The dude explained that no, he meant the meat is cold, and I said it was fine because I still didn't get it.  So I got a COLD meatball sandwich, which was also under-cooked, and it was way too gross to eat, and I felt really bad.  I was too embarrassed to go back and ask him to heat it for me.

One time I spent about an hour carefully composing a hand-written note to the front-desk hotel clerk asking him to order a pizza for us and ask various other questions, which I was so proud of, until I found out that guy speaks English very well and it had been unnecessary.  Then I was embarrassed.

 Probably the worst thing that happened, in terms of actual results, was that in the airport on our way back to the U.S., a luggage protection service came up to me wanting to wrap our suitcases in plastic-wrap, which cost $15 each, and I agreed to let them do it only because I was so confused and flustered I thought it was a requirement of the airport, when it was actually just some extra unnecessary service.

Another time I was a little embarrassed when I asked a mall food-court guy for ice in my drink (they don't put ice in drinks unless you ask), and he told me that they don't even have a way of putting ice in because their soda fountain machines don't even have an ice maker.  But all I got from that was "máquina" (machine), and since he gestured, I thought maybe he was saying that there was an ice machine somewhere. So I said, "Where is the machine?" and he kinda smirked and pointed at the soda fountain (smirked because my question made no sense, revealing that I had no idea what he was talking about and was trying to bluff my way through it).  Most of the time, everything turned out alright, but I was still embarrassed by having to make people repeat things over and over, and misunderstanding stuff.  The embarrassment was only minimal as long as people were nice and patient and for the most part, they really were.

To Be Continued...