Shit Got Real, or How I Got All My Stuff Stolen in Quito

Well, we´ve made it safely to Ecuador! Our first impressions were great- no sooner had we touched down on Ecuadorian soil that we were MARVELING at the beauty of Quito-- colorful colonial majesties in a natural bowl rimmed with green hills and volcanos. This was not your typical Latin American capital, so it seemed. We spent our first night in Old Town, a registed UNESCO world heritage site, and apart from the fact that everything closed at 7pm and the overwhelming abundance of armed military personnel everywhere, we were loving Quito. Finally! A Latin American captial that had it goin´on!

The next day was spent sightseeing a bit, the highlight of which undoubtedly being the Catedral del Voto Nacional. This massive gothic cathedral can be seen for miles and boasts one the best (albeit deadliest) views of Quito from it´s crumbling spires. So, naturally, we climbed up the rickety planks (knowing full well that not only would this not be allowed in the states, but that this place would most likely be condemned), and took some great pictures hanging off the side of the cathedral high above the city that I´m sure my mom will love.

After dinner, we grabbed our stuff and went to catch a taxi to Katie´s friend Elizabeth´s host family´s house, where we would be staying for the next few days. It was 7:30pm and getting a taxi was proving to be impossible-- no one would take us. It wasnt until a kind man flagged one down for us, that we seemed to be on our way. We were stopped in the middle of the road and the man was scurrying frantically to help us get our bags in the back so we wouldnt keep backing up traffic. It was because of this crazyness that I did something I NEVER ever do-- I allowed them to stuff my small backpack in back with all the large packs. There was some issue with the trunk shutting, so a couple other passersby came to help stuff it in. ¨Wow¨, we thought naiively, ¨These people sure are nice!¨ Huh.

We get to Elizabeth´s house and lo and behold, I go to the trunk and my backpack is gone. No where to be found. So here I am, on a dark street corner in Quito, yelling, cursing, and kicking my pack (not to mention really creeping out our taxi driver), because EVERYTHING of importance was in this backpack. For example:

-passport
-credit card
-debit card
-insurance card
-drivers license
-flight information
-$150 in cash
-ipod
-cell phone
-digital camera (with memory cards)
-journal
-guidebook
-medicine
-purse and all makeup and jewelery

Awesome right? But, there were several silver linings to this situation. I immediately called and cancelled my credit and debit cards and my cell phone, so nothing was charged. As I already said, my camera was broken anyways (its just the pictures that are gone). My insurance card and drivers license are of no use to anyone outside the U.S. After Ecuador, I didn´t need that guidebook, as it´s ´South America on a Shoestring´. Everything else was replaceable (with the exception of my journal, which is a bummer). Everything except my passport.

I don´t know if any of you have experienced loosing a passport in a foriegn country, but let me tell you, it´s one of the more frustrating experiences in regards to traveling. The next day was spent going to the United States Embassy, waiting in line only to find out that I needed a police report first, then going to the police station only to find out that ¨this station only does police reports for stolen documents. To report all your personal items you need to go to a different police station.¨ Then, going to that police station to (again, of course) wait in line, only to be told by the gentleman with a Nazi tatoo on his hand that ¨this station only deals with police reports for this neighborhood. You need to go back to the neighborhood where it was stolen and go to the police station there.¨ Screw that. It´s not like the theif is going to turn in an ipod and camera anyways.

Then comes the best part of all the errands: getting my new passport picture. I go to this internet cafe/corner store where the woman sits me in front of white paper and takes her digital camera and snaps the picture. The whole time I am facing all my friends making it that much more awkward, and Jeanne directing me to stop slouching, I look weird and have too much cleavage. I ask the woman to take a couple more pictures and finally photo 3 looks like a keeper. She goes to the computer and pulls up photo #1. Awesome. Then, she proceeds to photoshop the background, cutting excess and making it a plain white back ground. She starts tracing my hairline, then, she must not have liked my haircut, because all of a sudden she is giving me a virtual haircut and hacking away at my hair. As if this photoshop makeover wasnt enough, she started clicking a button making my face fatter. Now, my passport picture is a thing of beauty. Everyone will be jealous.

So, I return to the Embassy and the door is locked. A man opens it and tells me to come back at 1:30. Excuse me? It´s lunchtime. Great, thanks a lot. So promptly at 1:30pm with the report of stolen documents from the police station, I tell my story for the 109th time, and for some reason am met with a look of surprise when I tell him (again) that I will be leaving Quito tomorrow, no I will not be coming back to Quito, I am flying out of Guayaquil. Apparently the previous 108 times I told him this, he was nodding just to humor me. Anyways he tells me that the passport won´t be ready by then, in fact, it won´t even be ready by the time my flight leaves Ecuador on the 24th. But, after much pleading and sweet talking, they tell me that, okay, my passport will be ready at 11am the next morning.

(p.s. During this whole time, Cory Jeanne Katie and Elizabeth were such good friends-- they came with my every step of the way, sacrificing their own Quito fun for hours sitting outside the U.S. Embassy playing cards. That night we decided we didnt trust Quito, and stayed in with homemade lasgna, wine, and pirated DVDs)

So, the next day, I return to the embassy (I am now a celebrity, everyone knows me by name and why I am there), and leave with a new passport (complete with a bangin´photo). The last thing for me to do, they tell me, is go to immigration and get an entry stamp for ecuador and paperwork. This should take no more than 30 minutes. Cool.

Here is where I say be grateful for how smoothly opperations run in the U.S. I get there and no one is paying any attention to me or answering my questions. I get to the front of the line, tell him the paperwork I need and he tells me to take a number and sit down. I wait. I watch as all the female police officers are helping people and all the male ones are in a corner laughing and cracking jokes while dozens of people are waiting. I get called to the cubicle of one such male police officer who tells me I dont need the paperwork, just the stamp, go take another number for cubicle 4. The one right next to him with a woman working it. I take another number. I am furious. This is taking 3 hours. As I am waiting, we notice that all the men seemed to dissapear. Now, it was lunchtime, so I just figured that they took their lunch break. Yes, it is a little weird that they take their breaks by gender, but whatever. But just then, the back door opens and all of the male police officers emerge... in soccer uniforms. Dozens of male police officers leaving for the afternoon to play soccer and the women at cubicles putting on makeup and NO ONE helping me. Finally, after hours of waiting for a stupid stamp, we book it out of there and don´t look back.

So, yes, this was a frustrating ordeal. Yes, it is a bummer that I lost all of my important stuff. But, honestly, it really puts things in perspective. After my 15 minute freakout, I just said ¨You know what? This is okay. I´m not hurt, I still have my friends and my health, and everything will work out. This is an exersize in detatching ones self from material posessions, and really knowing whats important.¨ After all I have seen, how can I honestly be angry about not having an ipod? The woman who took my bag was probably desperate. How can I look at all the street families and complain about not having a camera? It doesn´t make sense. So what if I don´t have an ipod or cell phone or camera. These are things that the vast majority of the people I´m seeing will never have. So, I am grateful for this lesson. I don´t ¨need¨any of this stuff. No one does. I like them, but I won´t die without them. This could be the best thing to happen to me on this trip-- to really ground me to everything I am seeing and experiencing, stripping away what´s not important so I can really see what truly is.

Now I couldn´t be happier-- I am in Baños with Bridget!!! But, more on that later. Chao!
Hanging off the Catedral del Voto Nacional
Jeanne, me and Katie inside the CathedralAfter my stuff got stolen, this was the sign I saw: ¨Ecuador: We´re nice people¨At a bar in Puno, Peru, you could write whatever you wanted all over the walls. Here was our contribution- a quote from the movie ´Y Tu Mama Tambien´: ¨Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea¨