The Canoa Trip – Faux Tectonic Plates

It is my first morning waking up in a new hostel. The sun is shining. I am surrounded by beautiful palm trees. Our hostal is right on the ocean. I can hear the ocean waves breaking all around me. The morning sun feels amazing on my skin. This is paradise. I am sitting in the common area at the breakfast bar. My scrambled eggs and toast are set in front of me. Breakfast is served. Next, my coffee is ready. I reach for my cup to take a sip; I notice there are ripples beginning to form in my coffee. They start in the middle of the cup and work their way outside. Now, my coffee is spilling over the rim of the cup. The ground underneath me begins to shake. It starts at the floor and works it's way up my chair. Now my body is being completely jolted. The walls around me begin to violently shake. There is a man and woman working behind the bar. They grab each other and jump and huddle underneath the door-frame. All of the breakfast patrons drop to their knees and dash underneath their respective tables. They hold themselves in a fetal position with their hands securely placed over their heads. This is genuine and primal fear...

I am in the city of Canoa. On April 16th, 2016, the northern coast of Ecuador suffered a 7.8 magnitude intense earthquake. It was one of the most devastating natural disasters that Ecuador has ever endured. Canoa and it's neighboring coastal towns are still coping and rebuilding from the tragedy.

Three weeks ago I met Rebekka and Dominic. They are two amazing and fun travelers from Switzerland. They stayed with us at Bromila for a few weeks. The three of us became friends almost instantly. Now, they are working their way up Ecuador's coast towards Columbia. About a week ago, I received a message from Rebekka. She tells me that they are in Canoa for a few days and suggests that I go visit them. Deal. It's only a 6 hour trip via bus. Kerri, my Canadian friend, agrees to travel with me. We have to transfer buses in a town called Crucita. Kerri use to live in Crucita. She left her suitcase there with a lot of her belongings. I agree to stop at her old apartment on our way back and pick it up.

A simple 6 hour bus ride transformed into a 30 hour nightmare...

Kerri and I got off to a later start than we planned. We arrive in Crucita at sunset. All the buses have departed for the night. We will have to get a hostal and leave in the morning. Kerri has this good friend in Crucita. He is called Tin-Tin. She explains to me that we will have to get separate rooms at the hostal, because Tin-Tin will get angry if her and I share a room. I am mildly annoyed at this request. But it's okay, the hostal charges per person not per room; so our cost is the same. But I am less concerned with the economics of the situation and more concerned with keeping Tin-Tin happy. Kerri tells me Tin-Tin is the boss of the city. What Tin-Tin says or wants is considered law in these parts. I have seen enough cartel and mafia movies to know you do not want to anger the boss. I respectful agree to get my own room. I did wonder, quietly to myself, why the name "Tin-Tin?" If I was the ruler of a city, I would demand that people call me, "Steal-Steal!" or "Iron-Iron!," at the very least, "Copper-Copper?;" as long we are continuing with the whole 'alloy' theme. But Tin-Tin? Tin is the weakest metal. It's really just a foil used to wrap up your left-overs that you probably will never eat. But the name is not important, what is important is Kerri is excited to see her friend. She is equally excited to see "Pooka," Tin-Tin's watch dog. Pooka is the Tin-Tin of the dog world. Pooka is top dog in Crucita!

This is a fun reunion for Kerri. She walks around the streets hugging and conversing with her old neighbors. Crucita is a very small town, it did not take us long to find Tin-Tin and Pooka. It would be an understatement to suggest that Tin-Tin was not all what I was expecting. He was a surfer dude that maybe weighs in at 100 pounds, who may or may not live indoors. He was so harmless and seemed very kind-hearted. The name Tin-Tin was starting to make a whole lot more sense. And Pooka, the Cujo of Crucita was very skinny and only had three functional legs, and he was as sweet as his owner.

The three of us decide to head out for dinner. The restaurant is a bit far, so we have to take a tuk-tuk (open air taxi) to get to there. After dinner we decide to take a little walk on the beach before heading back to town. Tin-Tin buys some very cheap rum. He pours me shot after shot, ignoring my continued "no mas" instructions. I become very intoxicated quite quickly. I am watching Kerri and Tin-Tin walk considerably far a head of me. Kerri is very independent and free-spirited. I watch as she randomly hops into a pick up truck. Tin-Tin then vanishes into the darkness. I am all alone in a city I have never been to, but I am unafraid. I sit down on the beach and smile. I am in an alcohol induced state of ignorant comfort. The beach is completely desolate. We have not seen another person in hours. I close my eyes and try and collect my discountenance thoughts.

I hear familiar voices. I hear Tito! I hear Rebekka and Dominic! I hear Kerri! I feel water rushing all over my body. It feels like a gentle but firm massage. I sit up and open my eyes. We are all in Tito's river. There has been a drought in Montanita for the last 5 years. That drought ended one month ago. Tito and I have been waiting for weeks for the river to fill up so we have our own natural swimming pool in Tito's back yard. The river is now full. There is a bridge over the river. I am laying on the underpass of the bridge. The tiny rapids are pleasantly flowing over my body. I feel so safe and at peace. That whole series of unfortunate events was nothing more than one long bad dream. Rebekka and Dominic never left. I am not alone in an unfamiliar city. No, I am with all my friends. I look up at the perfectly blue sky and smile. That moment of perfect serenity passes as quickly as it came. Something is wrong. Ominous dark clouds block out the sunshine. The sky turns completely black. I look at Tito. He smiles at me, with a menacing grin. He waves at me. But it was not a conventional wave. He moved each finger one at a time, with the speed of a sloth. I knew he was not saying "hello" to me. He was definitively saying "goodbye." Quickly he turned into a silhouette made of black sand and then he falls apart and the earth consumes him. Rebekka and Kerri give me a similar smile, blow me a kiss, then their body shells made of sand also fall to the ground. Dominic gives me a thumbs up and then joins his friends. The river dries up underneath me. I put my hands down and grip the earth. My hands sink down; I grip them tight and pull them up. I can feel sand falling between my fingers. I hear the waves of the ocean breaking. I look around; all I can see is a dark deserted coastline. I never left the beach of Crucita. I am all alone again.

I sit up and look at my phone. It is 2:55 am. I have been sleeping on the beach for 5 hours. I knew I was out for a while because I was sober now. And sobriety is, for a lack of better words, very sobering. I am now starting to realize the gravity of the situation I am in. I have no idea where I am. We had to take a taxi here; so there has to be a significant distance that we traveled. I have nothing. Kerri and I packed all of our stuff together in one bag, one bag that she is carrying. Fortunately, earlier, Kerri gave me 20 dollars for a room. I begin my uncertain walk back into town. I know the town was not on the beach. I begin walking down dark side streets. The streets become darker the further from the beach I travel. Now I have lost even the most mild iridescence light. I am in complete darkness. The soft sounds of dogs barking that I heard when I entered the street are now loud and frightening. The only thing I am able to see are the whites of the eyes and teeth of dozens of dogs. I quickly turn around and head back to the beach. I walk a few more blocks and try a different street. It was exactly the same. I retreat again and head back to beach. Every street I head down seems more dangerous than the last. Now the dogs are getting more aggressive. They surround me and won't let me turn around. I take off my flip flop and hop on one leg while I swat my other flip flop at the dogs. I am trying to find that delicate balance of protecting myself and trying to avoid making the dogs feel they need to protect themselves. All the while, I just keep thinking "Pooka, king of the dogs! Where are you? Call your minions off! Save me!" I imagined Pooka flying in from the darkness with a yellow and red cape with a capital "P" written on it. He lands in front of me in all of his glory. Most dogs, regular dogs, need 4 legs to fight; but not Pooka, that local hero fought every single last dog off with the use of only 3 legs! But Pooka never came. I am able to back the dogs off enough to pass them. They continue to aggressively bark, but they do not follow me. They were just protecting their territory, once I was removed from their land, I was no longer a potential threat. I continue to walk down dark streets. Eventually, I hit a freeway. This brings me great concern. I never saw a freeway on our way here. I am completely lost. I cross the freeway and walk aimlessly while any shred of hope I clanged onto is diminishing. I see something that looks like a town. I walk towards it. I see a familiar ATM! This is the ATM I used when we arrived in town. It is the only landmark I remember. I am back in Crucita! I sit down next to the ATM and lay back. I have 20 dollars. I could find a hostal, but I do not know if I will see Kerri or Tin-Tin again, I may need that 20 dollars for transportation. The sun will be rising soon. I decide to rest there for a while. After about a half hour, I get this feeling I should stand up and look for them. As soon as I stand, I see two people off in the distance. This is the first time I have seen another person all night. I start waving my arms. They wave back. It is Kerri and Tin-Tin! They have been looking for me. We go back to their hostal. I rent a room next to theirs.

We wake up the next morning. We say our goodbyes to Tin-Tin and Pooka. I whisper in Pookas ear, "Thanks for nothing, last night. Very weak! Sad." And then we jump on the bus bound for Canoa.

We arrive at Canoa mid-afternoon. We quickly find the hostal that Rebekka and Dominic are staying at. We are all happy to see each other. We have a quit and early night. We are exhausted from our trip.

We wake up early and head down for breakfast. For the first time in two days I feel like I can relax. Well, that feeling did not last too long, as the entire hostal begins to shake around me. I watch everyone jump to a safer place. I am not sure why I am slow to follow suit. I know what is happening. I remember what happened here last April. It has been to long to be experiencing an aftershock. This is the real thing. This is actually happening! As I still sit there, naïvely not moving, I watch as a gigantic utility vehicle passes us on the dirt road right outside the breakfast area. It passes and the vibrations subside. At once, everyone jumps out of their hiding spaces. People are literally jumping for joy. Strangers and loved ones, alike, are hugging each other. Everyone is laughing. Some people are brought to tears they are so happy. It was only a truck. Everything is okay. Today is going to be a great day!