Remeber that One Time we Accidentally Stayed at the Drughouse?

So I decided to take a little viaje this weekend, to the lovely beach (and gringo filled) town of Montañita, Ecaudor. Montañita is famous for its surf-schools and laid-back ways of beachlife. Its lovely there.

My friend and took the bus to Montañita. We werent sure when the bus would leave, the staff at the Oro Verde Hotel (where she frequents for over-priced, but non-NesCafe caffinee fixes and to use the handicapped bathroom because it has airconditioning and plays classical music when you shut the door) told her that we could take the luxary bus line for $10 or so. Mmmm, no so much. We took the standard for $5.50, but had to wait at the station for an hour and a half until the bus left. No big deal, EcuaLife is all about the waiting. We chatted until the bus came and ignored the stares of the kids who grouped near us to watch the gringas speaking in that crazy gringa-speak. The bus ride was about 2 hours or so, and as far as I am concerned, it was luxary. The seat cushions had no rips, it did not smell like urine, and the tv was a flip-down screen. Top of the line, folks. I think they also recently had the microphone system installed, and were abusing that power at any opportunity.

We arrive into Montañita, its COLD! Well, its cold for Ecuador, but its beautiful! Pretty little beach town where you gotta roll up the cuffs to your pants because its muddy in the streets. Gringos in every direction, gotta admit it was a little weird for me...Anyhow, where should we stay? There are hostals everywhere, we go into town and turn away from the noisey "downtown" area and walk to the first hostal. "A ver..." we call out (EcuaSpeak for "Is anyone there to provide service to me?") No one responds. Business opportunity lost for them; we move on to the next hostal. There is a lady standing in the "lobby" area, but she says she doesnt work there. "A ver..." she calls out, and a skater-surfer-boy with a shaved head and tattoos everywhere comes out. "Do you have rooms available?" we ask in Spanish. "Yes," he responds in English. "Do they have private bathrooms?" we ask in Spanish. "Yes," he responds in English, "and a kitchen and hotwater. Come up and see them" he says. We head up the stairs and follow him to the room. Sounds too good to be true...ps, it was.

"This room is available. The beds are clean," he says motioning to the single bed and the set of bunkbeds. He points to the bottom bunk and says, "Except for this one. Its not dirty, but I slept here last night. I did not sleep under the covers, I passed out on top of the covers. So its not dirty if you sleep under the covers"

"Oooookay..." we say. Thats fine, there's two of us and two beds.

He continues, "I was drunk last night, and I didnt want to wake up my roommates, thats why I slept here. But normally I sleep in my room across the hall there. But last night, you know, I was drunk, I was talking to myself, and I didnt want to bother them."

Probably more information than I needed, I think. The room is $5 per person per night. We are sold. He leaves the room and comes back with a lock for us to put on the door, then he says, "Oh crap! My plants! My babies are on the deck here, dont mess with my babies!" he says playfully and goes to the deck. He moves the plants to the hallway area, where the plants still have access to lots of sunlight. He must be an avid gardener, I think, thats cool.

My friend goes to the bathroom. When she's done, I go in. "Umm...is this your underwear in here?" I call out to her. "Nope, that was in there when I went in" she says. When we pass by the hostal owner on our way out to the lunch and tell him there is underwear in the bathroom. "No way..." he says, "Who's are they?" "Well they are not ours," we respond, and tell him not to worry about it and that he can take them out when we get back. When we come back, he greets us warmly, and as we head up the stairs my friend calls out, "Hey! Do you wanna come get your underwear from the bathroom??" "Oh yeah," he says, and grabs a plastic bag so that he doesnt have to touch them with his bare hands.

He procedes to tell us about how our room is pretty much the nicest room in the hostal, I think he was trying to reassure us that we made a good choice in staying there, despite the man-panties in the bathroom. "Nicest room except for this one," he tells us, leading us to the other room. His friend was staying there, he tells us, but he kicked him out the other day. "Why?" we ask. "Well, he was a pig," he says, pointing to the numerous cigarette butts all over the floor and the bed with the sheets ripped off. "And besides," he adds, "he was selling cocaine out of the room. And thats not good, you know." "Yeah," we say, "definately not good. We are gonna go now..."

Montañita is a beautiful little town. We spent the rest of the day and night wandering around the (total of 4) streets in the town, and I tried to hold back how weird and scary and nice it was to see so many gringos in one place and not know all of their names...I also ate something that made my stomach hurt very bad. I wont get into it, lets just say there were lots of trips to the bathroom, followed by me peering intently into the bowl looking for worms as the nurses taught us to do (I am not kidding, they have pictures of people with worms they found in the toilet. If I ever get a worm, you best believe that I will take a picture for you all to see!). So I end up turning it in early for the night, which sucked because we had met some really cool folks and were having a great time chatting with gringos in Spanish, but hey, I always was a party pooper- much pun intended.

I doze in and out of sleep, trying to stay alert so I will hear my friend when she comes back in. Around 3am (I think that was the time, clocks in Ecuadorian Hostals do not exist, and I have stopped wearing a watch, because really? I live in Ecuador, the time doesnt really matter...) I wake up wondering where my friend is. She still hasnt come back yet. I slip on my flip flops, decide a bra isnt really necessary in this little surf town, and head down the stairs to see if anyone has seen her. Its dark, I dont see anyone in the lobby/resturant downstairs. Then this kid comes in the front door. "Hey, are you staying here?" he asks. Is he speaking in English? Am I awake? What time is it...? This kid cannot be more than 14 years old, what is he, the mini-security guard? "Sí" I respond to his question (I´m gonna not translate that for you all, you better know what sí means, come on now). "Ok," he says, followed by: "Hey, do you smoke pot?" What the what?!?! Who the hell is this mini-security guard-slash-drug pusher?? "No," I respond, and continue to head down the stairs because I can see there is a light on in the common bathroom so I figure I can ask that person if they have seen my friend. I peek into the bathroom, the door is open ajar, there is a guy sitting on the floor, I hope hes not sick, for his own sake and because I am not really trying to smell his vomit. "Has my friend come back yet?" I ask him, basically just assuming that he knows who the hell I am talking about. "No," he says, "Shes still out, dont worry, I am sure shes fine." "Ok, thanks" I say as I realize why he is sitting on the floor. He is accompanyed on the floor by a large plastic grocery bag filled with some green stuff. On the top of the closed toilet lid, he is cleaning mass amounts of marijuana. Where the hell are we?? The local drughouse?!?! Oh dear God. Maybe I am dreaming, I am going back to my bed.

My friend comes home eventually. I groggily open the door for her and get back into bed. I tell her about the weird 14 year old and the dude in the bathroom downstairs. "No way!" she says, "You must have been dreaming...."

The next morning we get dressed (not taking a shower, because there is no showerhead...there is just a rod coming out of the wall that a trickle of (not hot) water comes out of. Whatever, welcome to Ecaudor). We go downstairs to check the bathroom to see if there is evidence of whether or not I was having a Malaria Medication Hallucination, and sure enough...little green leafy things all over the bathroom. Good thing we are checking out tonight. We go to lunch, head out to the beach to do some yoga and watch the gringo surf-lessons (I only make fun because it looks way too hard for my big ass to do...) and head back to the hostal. As we make our way up the stairs, we stop to look at the dudes "babies." Yep, you guessed it: pot.

So pretty sure I will go back to Montañita because it is beautiful: there are no city buses there to make so much noise my ears are becoming deafened, and when you get off the main strip, its pretty chill. I found another little hostal down on the beach with hammocks on the deck overlooking the ocean. Pretty sure I will stay there next time, its worth the extra $3. Drugs are against the PC-Ecuador Pillars of Badness Rules, and besides my morals besides. My life here is crazy, I heart Ecuador.

peace,
Theresa