A Little Pick-Me-Up

So it is raining here in beautiful Guayaquil. Again.

When I say rain, I don't mean just a little sprinkle, a soft and constant pitter patter, or a gentle mist. Oh no, I mean a savage downpour that pounds on the windows, roofs, and streets. Yesterday we had a rainstorm that flooded the streets...and our apartment (yeah--we live on the second floor of our building).

The clouds started to roll in on our way home from spanish lessons, it had been a beautiful sunny afternoon with not a cloud in the sky. Dave and I made it into our apartment right when the first big drops started to land. Right in the nick of time, right? Yeah, that's what we thought.

Five minutes after arriving home, it sounded like rocks were being thrown on every surface of our building. Curious about this sudden weather change, I started to walk to our front balcony door to watch the storm. I didn't make it too far before I stepped into what has been come to be known as Lake Richert. The water was streaming through the bottom of the doors, through every window in the place (there is a window in every room by the way), and to top it all off---streaming from the ceiling.

I wish I had thought to take a picture.

In our panic, Dave and I rolled up our pants, grabbed the mop, and started operation clean-up. For one of the first times ever, I was actually glad we only have tile floors.

Tonight's rain storm is only missing the wind. The streets are flooded, but our apartment is not. You got to take what you can get.

Dave is loving the rainy weather, being the crazy Washingtonian that he is, but this Idaho girl just cannot get used to the constant drizzle. I'm too used to the sun shining even when it is freezing outside, to cloudless skies, and power rainstorms that only last ten minutes--not forty-five. Hence, I need to find sunlight in ways outside of the box.

Ta-daaa!!! Welcome to my new, light, sunny blog. A little piece of sunshine among Guayaquil's constantly overcast skies.

Vivo en Guayaquil, Pero Mi Corazón Está en Quito

Oh Quito, how I love thee... Dave and I needed a break from the heat and honking of Guayaquil, so we hopped on a quick flight north. We spent a wonderful four days in beautiful Quito, Ecuador. Enjoying the many artisan markets, coffee shops, restaurants, mountains, and cool weather. I wore jeans and long-sleeved shirts, slept with three blankets on the bed, and never left without my jacket, hat, and gloves for the first time in months. It was pure heaven. Quito is a very tourist friendly destination, with people from all over the world walking through the streets. It is not uncommon to hear whispers of French, Dutch, German, English, and, of course, Spanish as you travel down its cobblestone avenues. The people are also so very friendly, pointing out points of interest that they have discovered to any other tourist they see. People often can be seen giving tips on which restaurants to try or where the nearest bookstore can be found to complete strangers they bump into. Many ar

Años Viejos, Pyromaniacs, and Fireworks...Oh My

I have to admit, it has been quite awhile since I have actually been awake to ring in the new year and say goodbye to the old. Dave and I have always been a bit more concerned about the eight hours of sleep necessary to enjoy life rather than seeing the ball drop. But this year...is different. It is 12:58 and the neighbor's hired band just started, there are rapid fire explosives (aka fireworks) going off in three minute intervals, and the car alarms throughout our block seem to be answering the loving call of said fireworks. There will be no eight hours to start off the year for the Richert's this time. Nothing about our experiences in Ecuador could be classified as typical, and New Year's Eve is proving to be no exception. The evening started out quite and low key, dinner at home with a movie. There were the occasional firework, but that isn't anything atypical. I was even contemplating continuing the tradition of snuggling into bed by 10:30. Before I called

Yes or No?

A couple weeks ago, slipped in the far reaches of my mailbox, I found a note that took me back to the good ol' days of elementary school. You know what I'm talking about. Remember how you would just be sitting at your desk, one leg pumping back and forth, pencil eraser nudging your bottom lip, as you tried to puzzle out those mind-boggling multiplication tables? And then, out of the corner of your eye, you would see Andy passing a note to Melissa, who would then pass it on to Mark, who would then palm it off to you right before Mrs. Nelson turned around from the blackboard. Your name would be written all in cursive and curly-q's on the clumsily folded paper. Carefully, stealthily, you unfold the paper to find: Well, InterAmerican sent me a 'check yes or no' note, and it raised the same sensation of anxiety that those old love notes of yesterday used to inspire. Instead of the traditional, "do you like me?" question, it was the "will you continue

Living The Good Life

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