We had an amazing bike ride between the cities of Guaranda and Riobamba on the antigua road....the old dirt road that isn´t used much now, we think becuase the busses can´t make it up the steep sections.
Its was a beautiful, green, very steep valley and the road winded along the side of the hills. Some rural farmers but not to many folks along the way.
Slowly pedaling up one section we saw a lady on a donkey and two little kids walking alongside her. As we got closer we saw the kids were boys, around 4 and 5 I would guess. The lady had two slings on her back and we realized that she had not one but two kids strapped on, double decker style! The boys kept looking back, pointing, checking our progress. We eventually caught up and then passed them on a flatter section; the boys were less shy than many kids we passed, laughing and waving. Then it got steeper, and all the sudden the donkey was running past us on the road, the lady showing just a glimse of a smirk as she passed, urging the donkey along, with the boys running beside! This was a surprise, usually the indegenous people are quiet and don´t really engage us, sometimes not even looking directly at us when we pass. Here this lady was, giving us a challenge with her donkey!
She slowed down and when we caught up we all rode together for a while and chatted with the lady and the boys as our languages allowed. (they speak a mixture of Quechwa and Spanish and the accent can be hard to understand). The boys would get the courage up to run up and touch Steven's trailer and then run back to mom laughing their heads off. She had four kids and was in her early 20´s I would guess, she was surprised I didn´t have any.
We said goodbye on the switchback where the trail was to their house and pedaled off to the pass.
Later that day, still climbing, we were a good mile or so past any huts or houses when I saw a little old lady walking down the road with two walking sticks. She was tiny, (smaller than my beloved grandmother Tutu!) and ancient, with deep lines in her face and blue-grey cataracts. She came right up to me and when I stopped pulled me close to her face, speaking loudly in the way one does when they can´t hear well. She said hello, asked how I was doing, asked if I liked her country. After answering, she said something I didn´t get...she repeated herself and when I told her I didn´t understand she cackled an said So you don´t speak Quechwa? and she contined on her journey.
It was a good day!
Its was a beautiful, green, very steep valley and the road winded along the side of the hills. Some rural farmers but not to many folks along the way.
Slowly pedaling up one section we saw a lady on a donkey and two little kids walking alongside her. As we got closer we saw the kids were boys, around 4 and 5 I would guess. The lady had two slings on her back and we realized that she had not one but two kids strapped on, double decker style! The boys kept looking back, pointing, checking our progress. We eventually caught up and then passed them on a flatter section; the boys were less shy than many kids we passed, laughing and waving. Then it got steeper, and all the sudden the donkey was running past us on the road, the lady showing just a glimse of a smirk as she passed, urging the donkey along, with the boys running beside! This was a surprise, usually the indegenous people are quiet and don´t really engage us, sometimes not even looking directly at us when we pass. Here this lady was, giving us a challenge with her donkey!
She slowed down and when we caught up we all rode together for a while and chatted with the lady and the boys as our languages allowed. (they speak a mixture of Quechwa and Spanish and the accent can be hard to understand). The boys would get the courage up to run up and touch Steven's trailer and then run back to mom laughing their heads off. She had four kids and was in her early 20´s I would guess, she was surprised I didn´t have any.
We said goodbye on the switchback where the trail was to their house and pedaled off to the pass.
Later that day, still climbing, we were a good mile or so past any huts or houses when I saw a little old lady walking down the road with two walking sticks. She was tiny, (smaller than my beloved grandmother Tutu!) and ancient, with deep lines in her face and blue-grey cataracts. She came right up to me and when I stopped pulled me close to her face, speaking loudly in the way one does when they can´t hear well. She said hello, asked how I was doing, asked if I liked her country. After answering, she said something I didn´t get...she repeated herself and when I told her I didn´t understand she cackled an said So you don´t speak Quechwa? and she contined on her journey.
It was a good day!
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