Greetings from Quito!

Well, this trip has been quite as eventful as my last visit here, if not more.

I got my wallet stolen on Wednesday.

Ecuadorian Friend works during the week, so there were a few days that I ventured out into Quito on my own. Ecuadorian Friend clearly has not picked up, in the last seven years of knowing me, what a disaster I am on my own. Well...he either hadn´t picked it up or he had forgotten. Until Wednesday. After my wallet got stolen, I´ve been staying at his house while he works and then going out exploring with him in the evenings, so that I´ll have a bodyguard and also so that he can remind me not to do anything stupid.

There´s a man in Quito who organizes a lot of LGBT resource centers here, as well as LGBT tourism. I met up with him on Wednesday morning for a tour of the oldest district of Quito (which I already saw with Ecuadorian Friend last year but was excited to see again).

Ecuadorian Friend entrusted me to Señor LGBT´s care, and headed off to work. The plan was for us all to meet up again when he was done working. Yeah, no such luck.

Señor took me to an old church and to the place that used to be Quito´s main library. It was awesome! I took a lot of pictures and was having a great time.

Here in South America, everything stops for lunch. In the U.S., dinner is the big meal of the day. A lot of times families will gather for dinner and go out somewhere nice, or cook a lot of food for the meal. Dinner usually comes with several courses, including dessert. Well, in South America, that big meal is lunch. So Señor and I decided to hit up a nearby restaurant before we went to explore a church that, I kid you not, is decorated entirely with gold on the inside.

Señor and I had a very tasty lunch of beans and rice and chicken. I had put my change from the cashier in my front pocket instead of trying to organize everything in my wallet. Ecuadorian Friend warned me several times, both last year and this time, to keep a very close eye on my wallet. As he had told me last year, "Everyone in Quito knows how to pick a pocket."

I win points for genius. I was carrying multiple things with me, and I´m picky about my pockets being too full. I was wearing a jacket with big side pockets, so I put my wallet in one of those. Just so you know, THIS WAS A VERY STUPID IDEA.

Señor and I finished our lunch, and I went to put my change in my wallet. Except that there was no wallet. I reached into my pocket and felt...empty space.

My first assumption was that I had dropped it, either next to my chair or when I had gone to use the bathroom. Señor and several restaurant employees were very kind and helped me search for it, with unfortunately no result.

I was distraught. Señor very generously paid for a taxi and brought me back to Ecuadorian Friend´s workplace and gave me some very good advice about what to do, such as cancelling my credit cards. He also reminded me that most stores want to see a photo ID or a passport when someone pays with a credit card, and I´m so white that nobody could possibly pass as me. He also reminded me that, on the bright side, I had left my passport, cell phone, and the majority of my cash back at Ecuadorian Friend´s house, so this incident was really just a minor setback and not a total catastrophe.

I wasn´t particularly worried about my credit cards, my driver´s license, or the few dollars I´d had in the wallet. I started to cry when I told Señor that I had pictures of Niece and Nephew in my wallet.

Señor brought me to an internet cafe, where I called my dad and explained the situation to him. He agreed to cancel my credit cards for me.

Ecuadorian Friend met up with us, and he was freaking out that my dad will never let me come back to Ecuador again.

One thing that must be understood about my dad: he is an extremely understanding person, for all his weirdness.

My dad and I communicate mostly on a level of playful insults. He calls me and my brother "bleeding heart liberals" and says he doesn´t know how he and my mom wound up adopting kids like us, and I tell him he´s just cranky because he´s old and missed his nap. Translated, this comes out to: "I´m proud of you," and "I love you."

My dad knows me better than just about anyone, excepting myself. He´s one of my best friends and has always been very easy to talk to. He´s also well aware of my tendency to draw trouble like a magnet. His usual response when I get myself into trouble is:

Dad: You learned a lesson, didn´t you?

Me: Yes...

Dad: You´re not going to do that again, are you?

Me: No.

My father is perfectly content to let the shame of whatever it is that I´ve done be my teacher, and he never rubs it in.

My guess is that when I arrange for my next trip to Ecuador, my dad´s opinion on the subject will be, "You´re going to keep your wallet in your front pocket this time, aren´t you?"

So, Ecuadorian Friend, you are worrying needlessly. I am going to come back to visit you. Maybe, just maybe, next time we can avoid another catastrophe.

On second thought...I probably just jinxed us.

Wallet aside, Ecuadorian Friend is taking me to the jungle tomorrow!

Don´t panic. I´m prepared.

Jungle zombies being the biggest threat here, I took it upon myself to (re)read The Zombie Survival Guide. I have a cunning plan. If we meet zombies, I trip Ecuadorian Friend and climb up a tree while he is being eaten. Also, in a worst case scenario, I´m confident that my Kindle will make an adequate bludgeoning tool.

Unfortunately, we´re just f***ed if we come across velociraptors.