A temperamental but talented Italian Celloist from Argentina is featured in the first half. He seems rather haughty with the maestro and the orchestra, but the music is good.
Saturday morning we take the bus (25 cents) to the huge Ferria Libre market. Ben gets so distracted by the place he ploughs over two little kids knocking them to the sidewalk. I have say “lo siento” for him repeatedly to the poor kids and their unhappy mother.
A string of tin roofed buildings are chock full of produce, meat and live animals for sale. Even puppies and peacocks. Besides the amazing array of things to buy, I try to get a surreptitious picture of the only other women besides me wearing skirts to the market.
It’s not easy going undercover, but I have been fascinated by how almost no women in Cuenca wears dresses or skirts - only very tight fitting jeans, dark pants or leggings (on the young sometimes). Certainly no one but me has gone bare-legged in a skirt. I have only worn one once (sad because I brought three) but I feel like a sore thumb.
But I digress.
Everything is in abundance, like these potatoes. It’s hard to believe it all sells, there is so much. We buy 2 bags of veggies and spend about $7.00 - probably paying twice what we should because we haven’t learned to bargain as all Ecuadorians and savvy gringos do. Next time. However, we spend a fraction of what we would have at home.
These rambutan fruits have a silky white center like a mild gummy candy around a big seed. You slice them and pull them apart easily to remove the fruit and eat it. Really tasty.
Saturday night is the jazz society concert above an Italian Restaurant featuring pianist Jim Gala, originally from NYC, the society founder. We are invited to join a fellow Californian our age named Bayard, at his table. He is from Ventura and moved to Cuenca 4 years ago. He loves it here and teaches English.
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The trumpeter is a young Belgian guy. The rest of the group is Equadorian; the flute player is from the symphony.
The trumpeter is a young Belgian guy. The rest of the group is Equadorian; the flute player is from the symphony.
The second set features a young gal who sings jazz standards in English. As Bayard points out, jazz is one American export we can all be proud of.
Sunday morning we head by bus to find The International Church of Cuenca. I am intrigued that their congregation is made up of former Methodists, Mormons, Mennonites, Presbyterians and more. Another crazy bus ride and we wander around looking for the church. We arrive late, but still plenty of worship to go. The pastor is a former Methodist minister who had a 1500 member church in Houston. He delivers his sermon with a Bible and no notes. It entertains and inspires the kids in the front row (who he dubs “the church of the future”) just as much as the adults. The small congregation is made up of gringos, Indians, some black members and a few Hispanics. The sermon is chock full of humor and pathos and the Pastor sticks to his central theme - we are chosen - (John 15:16) like glue. It was a good one. Everyone is friendly to us after church and we feel welcome. Rebecca, the Pastor’s wife makes sure of it. Rebecca tells that they used to excuse the kids before the sermon, but they all protested they wanted to stay. How unusual is that?
It is raining cats and dogs while we huddle under a bus shelter with a young Indian family from church. The bus takes us to the historic center and we decide to walk the rest of the way home. This pretty church is nothing like the spare modern room used by the ICC!
Late afternoon it is too beautiful to veg inside. We head out to wander, mesmerized by the view.
Our friend Mike gave us a list of favorite places, so we search out this tiny spot for BBQ pork “sandwuches.”
OMG. They are so good. With the soda, “la cuenta” is $2 each.
Sunday evening is a time for family strolling, to have helado (ice cream), or watch the break dancers in the plaza. There’s little traffic and most stores are closed. Tomorrow is a big day - Jackie and Ben go to school!
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